Dragon Ball X: Volume II: Guardians of Tranquility
by Animaster21
Summary: Volume II of the Dragon Ball X Pentology. The Saiyans have found their home on Planet Haven, but after five years of peace, a sudden threat has once again arisen, and this time the stakes are even higher. An old enemy from the past has returned, and now the heroes of Haven will have to give everything they've got just to survive...  Rated T for violence and somewhat course language
1. Fine Dining

**Dragon Ball X**

Ah, I'm finally back with the second volume of Dragon Ball X. It's been a while, that's for sure...Anyway, if you haven't read the first volume, you'd better read it before this, because otherwise it'd be like reading the second Harry Potter book before the first. You could do it, but it wouldn't make near as much sense, and you wouldn't enjoy it as much. So, if you haven't read it...go read it. It's on my profile.

Now, onto the details. As I've already said, this is Volume II: Guardians of Tranquility, rated T for violence and mild swearing. This takes place just over five years after the last volume ended, so I'll just do a quick age thing.

Blitzo/Makurin/Rhuna: 23

Kenta: 22

Arnika: 21

Ferris: 30

Zeang: 30

Since the Eternal Warriors used to have...you know...Eternal Life...they're actual ages probably don't matter too much. Still, Arasha would be 518 as of this chapter, if their actual ages were determined. Of course, when they were revived...the enchantments were banished, so they're normal again.

I can't really think of anything else to say, anything else important relating to the actual story will be revealed in the actual chapter. So...On with the chapter!

**000**

Terrence Dirk strode surreptitiously down the street, threading his way quickly across the city. Dirk walked with his head bowed, hands deep in the pockets of his jacket, propping the clothing out so that the gun strapped to his waist didn't create a bulge.

On the man's head was a black bowler hat, covering his bald head, which was covered in scars. Dirk was broad in the shoulders, with large meaty hands and a muscular body. Stubble covered his chin, and his black eyes darted back and forth as he walked. There was a reason he tried to look so menacing; Dirk was professional burglar and a skilled hitman. In the criminal underworld, he was known by the name of Predator.

As he arrived at an intersection, Dirk stopped, glancing backwards and around him, performing a split-second evaluation of every other person he saw. The man leant against a streetlight, secretly flickering his eyes around in all directions, taking in everything in his field of view.

"Oh! I'm sorry!"

Dirk scowled as a woman bumped into him, but her tiny frame didn't even cause him to budge. The woman stumbled backwards, bouncing off Dirk's body. He turned his fierce eyes on her, and she squeaked in fright before hurrying off, quickly mingling in with the people flocking the pavement.

"_Stupid bitch..." _thought Dirk as he continued his surveillance.

Twenty minutes later, he was still standing there, but not once did he grow impatient. He'd done this several times before in his life, and waiting was worth the final result. Dirk looked at his watch; a solid gold hunk of metal that screamed of money. Dirk had stolen it from a rich investor he'd murdered three years before.

"_11:29 pm..." _he thought, and began counting down the seconds in his head. If the rumours were true, his wait would only last ten more seconds...

"Terrence Dirk, am I correct?"

Dirk smiled grimly as he heard the snide smooth voice, at the exact second that his watch hit 11:30. He turned to face the source, and was met with a short, extremely skinny man, dressed in a black trench coat. Like Dirk, he was bald, but didn't wear a hat, showing off his waxed head. The man was had several gold teeth, and had a thin black moustache. He looked like the kind of person that you wouldn't trust in a million years, and you would be right not to. He was trouble, no doubt about that.

"Mr Moar," grunted Dirk. "Perfectly on time."

"Oh please," said the short man, raising a finger and wagging it. His voice was smooth, and contained a certain element of charm. It sounded odd coming from someone like him. "I don't go by that name often. You can address me...as Silverhand."

Jasper Moar was also famous in the criminal world, though mostly by reputation. He was said to have pulled off over five hundred successful heists, without the authorities getting a whiff of his scent. His victims usually woke up to find every valuable thing in their house stripped, and a note somewhere in the house informing them of the Silverhand's catch. One particularly well-known case was when the owner awoke to find a message written on their forehead, in reverse. They didn't notice until they saw themselves in the mirror.

Silverhand extended his arm, and shook Dirk's hand. He had long spindly fingers, perfect for grabbing things. Dirk crushed them in his massive paw, but Silverhand showed no sign of discomfort.

"Come," he said, and began to walk down the street, which was fairly void of people by now. Dirk strode after him, falling into step a metre behind the tiny man.

"I must say, it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance at last, Mr Dirk. I've been looking forward to working with you for a while now. Ever since that job you did last June, I've been absolutely dying to meet you...that was right here in Grandiose City, isn't that correct?"

Dirk sniffed. "Whatever you say, Silverhand. Do you have the information that we need?"

Silverhand didn't seem fussed by the bigger man's superior tone. He just nodded and carried on walking briskly.

"Indeed I do. I've committed the entire security system to memory."

Dirk remembered hearing that Silverhand had an eidetic memory, but that wasn't the type of thing he was interested in. As long as the obnoxious little man could get them in and out, that was all that mattered.

"So, Mr Dirk. You remember the plan that we discussed on the phone, I presume?"

Dirk nodded. "Yep. You break the security. I do the muscle work and carry the loot. Simple as that."

Silverhand tutted. "Now, now, Mr Dirk. There's so much more to it than that. In fact, if it were anyone else's house, I'd demand a much higher share than a mere 50%. After all, I'm doing the hard part. Of course, as it is...even 20% would guarantee a comfortable life in luxury."

Dirk nodded jerkily. "Yes...tell me, Silverhand. What do you know about these people? I've learnt from years of experience that people aren't usually as rich as the rumours say."

Silverhand had to actually stop walking to laugh. It was a revolting retching noise, and Dirk twisted his face as he listened to it.

"Oh, my dear man. You're exactly right; in most cases, people _aren't _as rich as people say...but in this case, the rumours are spot on."

Dirk drew in his breath. "You mean..."

Silverhand looked at him, a spark of humour in his eye. "Yes. Arnika Hale _is _the richest woman on Haven. She's got it all; money from her inventions, money from brilliant investments...they say that she's a genius on the Stock Market, you know. Not to mention her technological advancements. You know of her father, Donald Hale? Looks like most of his brains were passed down. She's surpassed the M-Cube, that's certain. Most of the technology created after the Crimson Archfiend was masterminded by the girl...and she's only 21 years of age...She got married recently too, isn't that nice?"

Dirk raised an eyebrow. "There's a guy?"

"Indeed, and it's not surprising. I've seen her in the papers a lot; she's quite a looker. Still, she's brushed aside every lustful teenager to ever go near her and got engaged to a gentleman named Blitzo. I know, it's an unusual name, isn't it? Doesn't have a last one, either. He's taken Hale as his surname."

"And this Blitzo...will he be there tonight?"

Silverhand smiled eerily, the street lights reflecting off his gold teeth. "He will. And that, my friend, is why I requested for you to accompany me tonight. My contacts tell me that you're quite the fighter. So is this Blitzo. Do the math..."

Dirk cracked his knuckles, jaw set. "He'll regret fighting me. I've never lost."

Silverhand frowned. "So I've heard...You punched your father into hospital at age twelve, as I recall. Well, this is no ordinary opponent, I'm afraid. I've heard rumours; this Blitzo's unnaturally strong, they say. Beyond normal strength. Beyond any level of strength Havienly possible..."

Dirk spat. "Yeah, right," he scoffed, and laughed gruffly, cracking his knuckles to emphasis his point. "I'll beat the turd right out of his arse if he tries anything apart from standing in the corner or sleeping."

Silverhand smiled mysteriously; it looked strange on his snivelly rat-like face. "They also say that he was involved in the defeat of the Crimson Archfiend."

Dirk stopped laughing immediately, the cruel humour in his face replaced by shock.

The Crimson Archfiend - that supernatural fiend that had appeared about almost six years ago. Dirk remembered the time well. Everybody – _everybody _– had lived in complete fear, terrified that the Shadow would appear, leaving no survivors. No one knew what it wanted or where it had come from, only that it was the closest thing to complete extinction the Haviens had ever faced. Virtually every person on the planet had been killed, before being mysteriously brought back to life.

As for the Crimson Archfiend...no one quite knew what had happened to it, but it had never appeared again. The general consensus was that it had been killed by an even greater power, although no one knew just who it was, or even if it was natural. A few people even believed that it had been a Kai.

The surprise of Silverhand's statement slowly wore off, and Dirk was naturally sceptical.

"What, are you serious?" joked the criminal, but he still felt uneasy. "Who believes that?"

"Quite a few people," answered Silverhand matter-of-factly. "Personally, I do not...it's just yet another possibility as to who this Blitzo really is. He's completely unknown; his past is a mystery, and no one knows anything about him apart from that he's supposedly a fighting genius."

"Whatever," said Dirk, and gave Silverhand a little shove in the back. "Let's just get on with this."

They continued on through the city, until at 11:56 exactly, they arrived.

Surprisingly, the house wasn't that big, for someone so rich. It was two storeys, and though it was extremely large, it wasn't exactly a mansion. It did, however, have a giant steel fence around the outside, with a fierce-looking gate out the front. After walking through the gate, one would find themself in a small front garden, with hedges around the outside, and a pebble-lined path running through.

"A nice place, don't you think?" commented Silverhand. "Arnika Hale and that Blitzo brute moved in a few months ago."

Dirk and Silverhand sidled up to the front gate, and the smaller man gazed hungrily through the bars. They were locked electronically, but Dirk frowned as he looked around. There wasn't a single camera in sight.

"Hurry up," he grunted to Silverhand, who pulled a laptop from within his trench coat.

"Yes, yes," said the master thief, and expertly hacked into the mansion's security systems using the laptop. Dirk watched in confusion and reverence as Silverhand worked his way through the various traps the building had.

"What have we got?" asked Dirk, and Silverhand laughed, that same disgusting wheezing as before.

"Crap all," he said. "This is shameful; a child could disarm these. I'm insulted."

He continued working, and the minutes passed by. Suddenly, the computer beeped, and Silverhand frowned.

"That's new..."

"What is it?" demanded Dirk, glancing at the screen. It had a small red box: Access Denied. "What's that?

"This is quite phenomenal," murmured Silverhand, and he began to type rapidly, inputting several commands into the computer. "I'm onto the last little bit, but it's a doozey. These gates are set on a tripwire; if we try and climb or open them, they'll not only set off an alarm, it'll give us electric shocks powerful enough to knock out a horse. It won't kill us, but it'll be painful, and we'll definitely be caught. That wasn't on the security plan..."

"So?" said Dirk. "Just disarm it's like the others."

"That's the thing," replied Silverhand. "It's got a firewall stronger than anything I've ever seen. It'll take me months to crack this thing."

Dirk swore. "You're screwing with me, aren't you? I thought that you could break any security."

"I'll try and get in, but it's a slim chance, I'm afraid."

For the next forty minutes, Silverhand worked feverishly, throwing everything he had at the gates, but nothing worked. Just when Dirk was about to smash the little man's head in, he gave a cry of surprise, and the gate swung slowly open, the giant grates clanging to a halt.

"What just happened?" asked Dirk, suspicious.

"I-I don't know..." stammered Silverhand. "I tried a backdoor that I thought wouldn't work in a million years, and it just gave me access..."

"Great," said Dirk. "Is everything down?"

Silverhand nodded, but didn't move.

"What?"

"It's just...something's not right here," pondered Silverhand, scratching his bare scalp. "Nothing I tried even put a dent in that firewall, but a pathetic final attempt suddenly lets me in?"

"So? The gates are open, there's no more security. What are you waiting for, you idiot?"

"That's just not how it works!" cried Silverhand. "This isn't normal! First of all, these gates weren't on the security plan. They've been added after the girl moved in."

"Well, that's hardly surprising, is it?" growled Dirk. "You said that she's some techno whiz, not to mention she's rich. Of course she's gonna install better security!"

Silverhand shook his head. "That's exactly the point..._If _she was going to install this, then I'd _expect _it to be virtually flawless. As soon as I saw that this was here, I instantly knew that the chances of us pulling off this heist had gone down to about a million to one! But now...it just let me in! _That's not normal!"_

"What are you afraid of?" snided Dirk. "It's just some woman; she won't be able to hurt us. Come on, let's go in, damn it."

Silverhand hesitated. The main reason he had survived so long in this business was because he knew when to call it quits.

But then, the thought of all the money that the house would contain filled his head, and drove every thought of precaution from his head. Against his better judgement, he followed Dirk in.

Together they wound down the garden path, arriving at the front door. Dirk looked at his watch: 1:13. Sneering, he pulled a crowbar from his jacket, and prepared to break open the door.

"Don't use such crude methods," snapped Silverhand, and pulled a small metal object from his pocket. A key.

"Where did you get that?" breathed Dirk in admiration. He had to admit it; Silverhand came prepared.

"An acquaintance of mine did some work here last year," said Silverhand smugly. "He was sure to take a cast of the lock system, and sold it to me. It wasn't cheap, I can tell you, and it took a lot of convincing. Of course, the money that we make here will easily cover the cost of this key."

And with a flourish, he inserted it into the door. It turned easily and the door unlocked with a small click.

Dirk grabbed the handle and twisted it, swinging open the door. Despite his size, the man was as stealthy as a cat. Not only that, he had trained his eyes to see in the dark. Silverhand was right behind him.

They were in a wide hallway, with entrances to rooms on either side. In front of them, the hallway opened up into a sort of antechamber. In the middle of the open space was a grand staircase leading to the upper floor. The hand rests were made of what looked like pure gold, and a lush red carpet covered the ground.

Valuables were everywhere. Famous paintings hung from the walls, in gold frames, and there were a few tables lining the walls, holding things like original manuscripts and priceless ancient manuscripts.

"My God..." breathed Dirk. "It's a goldmine!"

"Ok," whispered Silverhand. "You have the bags?"

Dirk nodded, and pulled a roll of black plastic bags from a pocket on his jacket. The roll held a hundred bags, although as he surveyed the hall, Dirk seriously began to doubt that even that large number would be enough.

"Put the plan into action," ordered Silverhand. "We'll start putting the loot in the bags, then you go get the truck and we'll load them in. Let's get to work. You start on this stuff, and I'll go down to the basement; most of the money's stored down there, but I'll have to break the lock on the door."

Dirk nodded, and tore off a bag from the roll. Unfolding it, he began taking the artefacts off the wall and shoving them in the bag.

"Be careful with that stuff," scolded Silverhand as he disappeared through a door, walking down the stairs to the basement door. It was solid steel, with a computerised lock on the hinges. It would take at least an hour to crack. Tongue between his teeth, he pulled his laptop back out, and began running some more hacking software.

Back on the ground floor, Dirk was busy stuffing every object he could get his hands on into bags. Within minutes he had five bulky sacks full of valuable loot, and he'd only just started.

The big man slipped out of the hallway into a room on the right. Straining, he gazed the room. It was obviously some sort of library; a massive bookshelf was built into the far wall, and it was literally _crammed _with books. Not a single space on the wall was devoid of literature.

The rest of the room was largely empty. Like the hallway outside, the carpet was thick and red, and there was a dark green armchair in the far corner, next to the bookshelf wall. It looked expensive, not to mention comfortable. There was a small table next to the armchair, with a small lamp on it.

Unlike the rest of the house, the room had near to no valuables in it. Except for...

"My God..." whispered Dirk, and his eyes widened as far as they'd go. His eyes were fixed on the only other piece of furniture in the room; a small table against the wall. It was completely bare, with the exception of a small mango-sized orange orb in the exact centre of the tabletop. It had six yellow stars on it, twinkling in the darkness of the room.

Dirk moved slowly across the room towards the orb, still unable to believe his eyes. He knew what the orange sphere was, but until now he had no idea if they actually existed or not.

A Dragon Ball.

There were seven of them, scattered and hidden across Haven, subjects of legend. It was said that if all seven were gathered, they would summon a Dragon of infinite power to grant any wish that the summoner asked.

Breathing heavily, Dirk jerkily extended his arm...to grab the ball, the claim it for himself. The Dragon Ball alone would be worth more than anything else in the house...

"That's not yours."

Dirk stopped dead, momentarily stunned. The voice had come from just on his right, from the apparently empty armchair...with a start, Dirk noticed a small dark shadow sitting in the chair. Against the dark green of the chair, he hadn't noticed it before.

With a small click, the lamp on the table flicked on, casting a bright light into the room. Dirk grunted, and covered his eyes, shielding them from the glare. A few seconds later he recovered, and looked into the armchair.

There she was. Sitting in the chair, completely at ease with a stranger in her house, was a young woman. She had amazingly smooth dark brown hair, which went down just past her shoulders. Her eyes were a brilliant green, framed perfectly above her small nose. The woman wore no make-up, but she had no need; her skin was as smooth as could be. She had no need for cosmetics. She was stunning enough without it.

Dirk knew it had to be Arnika Hale; who else could it be? The thief was struck dumb as he stared at her, caught red-handed under her fierce gaze. So, this was the richest woman in the world...she certainly looked the part.

In Arnika's hands was clasped a book. Dirk glanced at the cover: "The Rise and Fall of the Crimson Archfiend". Dirk recognised it. He'd read it; a vast majority of people had. The book had been written shortly after the resurrection of the Haviens, a supposedly true tale of space warriors who had arrived on Haven, eventually defeating the Crimson Archfiend. Dirk himself didn't believe it was true, the entire thing was far-fetched. It was just one possibility of what could had happened.

With a start, Dirk remembered the name of the author; Kenta Hale, Arnika's brother. In fact, Arnika herself was a major character in the book. With a pang of unwanted fear, Dirk remembered what Silverhand had said of Blitzo, the girl's husband, and the strength he was supposed to possess.

"_C-could the book be true?"_ he thought nervously, but cast the thought from his mind. It was ridiculous to think such things. A much better use of his time at the moment would be to find a way out of here.

"I see you're here to take some of my stuff," frowned Arnika. She stood up and strode across the room, placing the book in the only vacant slot on the wall shelf, before turning back to look at Dirk, leaning against the shelf behind her. "So, pal, what are you going to do now? You're hopelessly trapped, just so you know."

Dirk smirked at her. "Really? How do you figure that?" The man shifted his jacket, bringing the gun at his waist into view. Arnika glanced at it, disinterested.

"And you think that toy will save you?" she asked blandly.

Dirk was surprised. Arnika wasn't showing any sign of fear at all; in fact, she seemed almost amused.

"Let me tell you something, girl," he said, pulling the pistol out and nonchalantly pointing it in her direction. "The bullets in this gun are specially modified to detonate on contact. Don't make me use them on you."

Arnika raised an eyebrow, only serving to rattle Dirk's nerves even more. "Before you go any further in this heist, haven't you wondered...for a house of so much money, don't you find it has a strange lack of security? After all, shouldn't there be guards, an alarm, or something? You got in rather easily, didn't you?"

Dirk frowned. She had a point...Silverhand had even hesitated before coming in solely due to the lack of security involved. "Shut up."

"You've had it way to easy so far. Aren't you wondering why?"

Beads of sweat were running down Dirk's neck. This woman's confidence and lack of fear was disturbing. He didn't say anything.

"Fine, I'll tell you why. You got in...because I let you in."

"_What?" _Dirk was stunned, but still retained his silence. "_What does she mean, she let us in?"_

"It's a little thing I've been working on. You see, the security around this place isn't as lax as it seems. As soon as your friend tried disarming those traps, I knew instantly. Pinhead-sized cameras on the gate let me look at you. They were completely undetectable."

Arnika seemed pleased with herself. "I've been waiting for you to break most of the alarms. You sure kept me waiting, didn't you? Took your friend long enough. Luckily I had my book to keep me occupied. After you struggled so much with the gate, I decided to put you out of your misery and disarmed them myself."

"Y-you bitch!" gasped Dirk, completely freaking out. This had never happened to him before. This had never happened to _anyone _before.

Silverhand's hacking skills were legendary. His spyware was unbeatable. To have the technology to evade him was beyond the impossible...

Arnika gave a cocky smile. It suited her face perfectly; her elfish face looked even better with a smirk. "Oh, my good man, you have no idea...the worst is yet to come...There's one last trap that you failed to neutralise..."

Dirk snapped. Bringing up the gun, he tightened his finger on the trigger. "You're dead!"

There was a massive bang, sounding even louder in the enclosed room. Accompanying the gunshot was a flash, and a specially-modified exploding bullet shot from the end...

Arnika only smiled.

Dirk had shut his eyes in exasperation as he had fired, but something was wrong...then it hit him...

The bullet hadn't exploded.

Opening his eyes, Dirk found the scene exactly the same as before; Arnika stood confidently in front of the bookshelf, completely unharmed. There wasn't any sign of the detonation. Dirk's arm was still outstretched, the barrel of the gun still pointing at her.

Arnika's smug grin grew. "Nice try, buddy, but you'll have to do better than that. Because the last trap..."

"...is me."

Dirk gave a shout of surprise, and spun to his right, staring wildly in the direction of the new voice, which had come from nowhere. And as he saw what stood to his right, leaning against the wall in the corner, his jaw dropped.

There was a man there, his mouth set in an angry line, eyes flashing in annoyance. The man was dressed in an expensive looking nightrobe, though he looked like he would be infinitely more comfortable in a Martial Arts gi. Though he was slightly shorter than Dirk, his arms were even more muscular. And not only his arms; his entire body was rippling with muscles, giving off a menacing atmosphere of power.

His eyes were black, and sharp, and filled with boastful anger. He had a pointed nose, and ears that sat flat on his face. Like his eyes, his hair was also pitch black, although it was unlike any hair that Dirk had ever seen...

The fringe stood straight up in the air, forming a front "layer" of sorts, apart from two locks that hung down over his face. Behind the fringe, the rest of the flowed towards the sky, the ends pointing directly upwards. The second layer looked to form a sort of crown on top of his head, though didn't hold any sort of gel or wax. It was natural.

This, Dirk realised, was Blitzo.

He felt a sudden paralysing fear that blossomed deep inside his body, before swelling instantly to the surface, filling his head and rooting him to the stop.

Blitzo stared him down, and as Dirk watched in terror, slowly held out his hand, palm pointing upwards. Sitting on his hand was the bullet that Dirk had fired at Arnika.

"_What the...!" _screamed Dirk in his brain. "_That's impossible!"_

Blitzo smirked, and rolled the bullet around on his palm, before bringing it forward until it was clenched between his thumb and pointer. His eyes still fixed on Dirk, the man bent his thumb under the projectile.

"My turn," he growled, and flicked the bullet. It shot through the small space between them like a rocket, smashing into the side of the gun that Dirk was still pointing at Arnika.

It exploded.

Dirk screamed in pain as the bullet detonated right next to his hand, a sudden flare of light that flashed into his brain. The pistol was blown right out of his grasp, arcing across the room and bouncing along the ground. The metal was mangled; torn and twisted.

Meanwhile, Dirk staggered against the wall, clutching at his wrist with his left hand. His other hand was gruesomely burnt from the explosion, horribly disfigured. The skin was red raw, and chunks had been gouged right out of the flesh. At one spot, the bone was visible. Blood dripped slowly down his arm and onto the floor.

Blitzo stepped over to him, and now the smirk was gone, replaced by a cheerful smile.

"You know," he said, and Dirk stared at him, eyeballs rolling wildly in his head. "If you had of just broken in, and stolen my belongings, I would have just blown your hand apart as a lesson to you..."

Blitzo leaned in close, and the smile vanished. Now the only expression on his face was one of pure anger. Dirk saw his mouth move, and heard the words come out, as if from down the end of a distant tunnel.

"...but threatening my wife...was a bad idea."

**000**

Kenta Hale gave a content sigh as he leant back in his deck chair, feeling the tingles ripple through his body as he stretched. Flipping his sunglasses up into his spiky brown hair, the Havien looked over the balcony, taking in the fantastic beach across the road.

Kenta was sitting on his own at a table, under a massive striped umbrella. Although there were other smaller tables around him, there were eight other chairs around his, each empty. A waiter attended the other people at the café, but Kenta had waved him off for the moment.

It was about 9 in the morning, and the early morning sun blazed down on the beach, reflecting off the white sand. Kids played in the surf, throwing up sand and kicking around in the water. Kenta grinned as he saw them; the funnest part of his life was being a kid, without a care in the world.

"Look who it is," said a voice from behind Kenta. "We made it."

Kenta turned to face the owner of the voice, and his face lit up even more as he saw three people weaving their way through the tables towards his.

In the lead was a female, with medium-length black hair that curved around her head. She had pitch black eyes, with a bright fire in them, as well as a cocky grin. There was a gold wedding ring on the ring finger of her hand. It had been her who had spoken.

Behind her walked a second person - this one a man - who looked so similar to the woman that they could be siblings. Of course, Kenta knew they weren't; Rhuna and Makurin weren't related at all. In fact, they weren't even Havien. The two were Saiyans, a near-extinct alien race, and the greatest fighting race in the universe. Of course, their existence was a closely-kept secret.

Makurin had sharp-looking black hair, which was spiked sharply backwards and up. Like Rhuna, his eyes were also pure black. Finally, a second man brought up the rear. He was massive, at least two metres tall with short wiry blonde hair. He packed more muscle than the other two combined, and wore his trademark green singlet and baggy martial arts pants.

"Kenta!" beamed the massive man, and pulled Kenta out of his seat into a rough hug, before plopping his large frame into a seat on the other side of the table. Kenta laughed.

"Oh, Mataro," he said. "You'll never change, will you?"

Mataro shook his head cheerily, and let out a loud guffaw. "I haven't for the last five centuries, why should I now?"

By now, Rhuna and Makurin had sat down as well, and the waiter tittered over, a notepad at hand.

"Care for Morning Tea?" he asked. "A snack, perhaps. A slice of cake?"

Rhuna nodded thoughtfully. "Sure, why not?" She glanced around, before swiping off an abandoned menu from a nearby table, and ran her finger down the list. "Hmm...big selection...I'll tell you what, um..."

"Lawrence."

"Larry. I'll tell you what, Larry, this'll take a few minutes, so just get everybody else's and then come back to me. How's that sound, eh?"

Larry nodded politely. "Of course. And you, sir?"

Makurin grinned, and tapped his chin as he thought. "Are you fast at writing?"

Larry nodded, confused. Makurin winked at Kenta, who rolled his eyes and sunk into his seat, already embarrassed. He knew what was coming.

"Alrighty then. Could you get me...two jam tarts, a bowl of ice-cream –whatever flavour – six cookies, and a chocolate caramel slice...oh, and a cupcake too; I'm feeling peckish."

Larry stared in bewilderment, completely dumbfounded by the order. Who ate that much for a simple Morning Tea? Eyebrows raised, he copied the order down on his pad, and turned to Mataro, who - like Kenta - had turned red in embarrassment. Neither of them would ever get used to the unfeasible eating habits of the Saiyans.

"Uh, just a slice of chocolate cake for me, thanks," he muttered.

"Same here," said Kenta.

Larry turned back to Rhuna. "Have you decided yet, miss?"

Rhuna bit her lip, considering. "I think so...could I have _three _slices of cake, some caramel pudding, two lamingtons and a piece of pie, as well as a cup of coffee. Six sugars, if you don't mind."

Larry stared at her, before he was broken out of his stupor by Makurin clapping. "Chop-chop!" the Saiyan said sharply, and Larry snapped to attention, before hurrying back into the café. Rhuna smiled pleasantly and turned to the others.

"Good service," she complimented, before flashing a grin at Kenta. Her teeth were a bright white. "So, how's it going, Kenta? Any more books in the works?"

Kenta laughed. "Sort of...you got any old stories about Planet Vegeta? I could do with some ideas...and you know I love non-fiction."

The others laughed. Most of the world was convinced that The Rise and Fall of the Crimson Archfiend was pure fantasy, but of course, it was the exact opposite. The "space-warriors" in the story were in fact the Saiyans.

"So, when're Blitzo and Arnika coming, anyway?" asked Mataro. "I haven't seen them in nearly a month!"

Rhuna glanced at him. "Didn't I tell you?" she said. "They're at the hospital."

"What?" Mataro looked worried. "What happened?"

"Two men broke into their house last night. They got beaten up pretty badly."

Makurin waved a hand. "Huh. They deserved it."

"Makurin!" scolded Mataro. "How could you say something like that?"

"They broke into Blitzo's house, Mataro," said Makurin. "Of course they were gonna get beaten up."

"Yeah," nodded Rhuna. "I agree. Anyway, the police made Blitzo and Arnika go and visit the thieves. They should be here soon."

"Oh, it wasn't _my _fault those guys were so weak!" said a voice, and the group turned to see Blitzo himself walking towards their table. Arnika walked next to him, and punched her new husband playfully on the arm. "Havien's are so fragile."

Everybody laughed and exchanged greetings as the two newcomers sat down. Arnika frowned at Rhuna.

"Where's Ferris, anyway? I thought he was coming."

Rhuna shrugged. "He told me that he had something to do, and that he'd be along in a while...come to think of it, I can sense him coming now..."

And sure enough, a few seconds later a tall man strode onto the patio, sitting down next to Rhuna and pecking her on the cheek.

Ferris was tall and handsome, with shoulder-length brown hair. He had sharp blue eyes, and wore a black casual suit. On the man's finger was a ring identical to Rhuna's, and in his hands was a small bunch of flowers, which he passed to the Saiyan woman.

"Here you go, my sweet," he smirked, as Rhuna rolled her eyes and threw them over her shoulder. Still, she had a loving smile on her face.

"You know how much I hate flowers," she said, and Ferris laughed.

"Of course I do, but it's worth it every time. Hello, everybody, by the way."

Everyone nodded in greetings, Kenta and Blitzo both cacking themselves at the exchange. They all knew that Rhuna and Ferris' relationship went deep down into both of their hearts.

At that point Larry returned - accompanied by three of the cooks - and unloaded the massive orders onto the table. The waiter seemed startled by the new faces; still, he whipped out his notebook and took the orders of the newcomers, before he left again.

Makurin and Rhuna tucked in immediately, shovelling the food down at an alarming rate. In comparison, Kenta and Makurin took their time with their single slices of cake.

"Anyway," said Rhuna, between gulps. "How are the patients?"

Arnika laughed. "Still unconscious, I'm afraid. You really let 'em have it, didn't you, Blitzo?"

"You could say that."

"Still though," said Rhuna, winking at Mataro. "Did you _really _have to break that little guy's kneecaps like that? Not to mention cracking his laptop in half with _his own skull!_"

Blitzo waved a hand. "Meh...from what I've heard, he's been wanted for ages. The government should be thanking me," he joked.

Mataro shook his head exasperatedly.

"Besides," said Blitzo, staring accusingly at Rhuna. "You can't talk; what about that mugger that you beat up last year? You're in no position to chastise me for overdoing it."

Rhuna looked miffed. "I only hung him from a light post..."

"Which you then tore right out of the ground and hurled down the street like a javelin. The poor guy almost broke his neck!"

Rhuna glared at him. "Yeah, well...ah, shut the hell up!" The female Saiyan ducked her head down and shoved an entire piece of cake into her mouth, chewing violently. Blitzo leaned back in his chair, hands clasped behind his head. A smug grin covered his face.

"Moving on..." said Ferris, and Mataro nodded enthusiastically.

"What's everybody planning on doing today, anyway?" the massive man asked exuberantly.

"Well, I'm doing a book signing today, so my schedule's full," said Kenta, looking slightly mopey.

"As for me, I've planned a sparring session with Geani," said Ferris.

"What about you?" asked Makurin to Blitzo. "Gravity room?"

Blitzo nodded, but noticed Arnika winking at Rhuna. "What?"

"You guys are _always_ training," said Arnika, flicking him playfully on the nose. "Take a break for a day, it'll do you good. You two should come with me and Rhuna, have a game of tennis."

"Tennis?" scoffed Makurin. "Somehow I don't think so."

"Oh, come on!" pleaded Rhuna. "It's just as fun as training, believe me. We could do a doubles match."

Blitzo frowned. "I guess...Don did mention that there were a few problems with the Gravity Chamber last time we saw him."

Makurin looked doubtful, but grudgingly nodded. Mataro laughed heartily.

"What I would give to see you play tennis," he boomed. "Too bad I can't come, I've got an audition today."

Ferris reached across the table and patted the Eternal Warrior on the back. "Good luck, my friend."

Mataro smiled. "Thanks, Ferris. Of course, with my devilish charm and dashing good looks, I probably won't need it."

Kenta and Blitzo burst out laughing again. "Yeah right," snickered Blitzo. "You have about as much charm as a dead goldfish."

**000**

"I still can't believe we actually convinced them to play," chirped Rhuna proudly, as she lined up next to Arnika, racquet in hand.

Across the court, standing awkwardly facing the two women, were Blitzo and Makurin. Like Rhuna and Arnika, they both clutched racquets.

"Are you sure about this?" called Blitzo. "I think we might be a little too strong for this kind of thing..."

Arnika rolled her eyes, and held up two modified tennis balls. While they looked like regular tennis balls on the outside, they each contained a sphere of specially made heavy steel. Arnika had invented the balls to accommodate for her and Rhuna's heightened power compared to regular Haviens, and each weighed almost half a tonne. Geani - a master swordsman and lifelong companion of Mataro, and who had mastered the art of forging and manipulating metal – had advised her on how to harden the steel, at the same time making it incredibly weighty.

"Don't you worry about that," she shouted back. "Let's start, alright? We'll play a three set match."

"Any idea what that means?" muttered Blitzo, and Makurin slowly nodded his head.

"Yeah. I saw a few tennis games on TV last year, so I sort of know how to play. Just do what me and the others do, alright? You'll catch on pretty quick."

Blitzo frowned, unsure. "I guess..."

Opposite him, Arnika bounced one of the balls up and down with her racquet. Like the balls, the racquets themselves were custom-made by Arnika to withstand incredible pressure and impact. Suddenly, she threw the ball above her head, and swung the racquet at it. With an odd popping noise, the ball thundered down the court past Makurin, who brought his own racquet around and smashed it back, shooting it back at an angle, so that it hurricaned past Rhuna. At the last second, she swung her racquet, and the ball flew back the way it had come again, towards Blitzo.

The Saiyan bit his lip as the tennis ball zoomed through the air, making a loud whistling noise from the speed it was travelling. Closing his eyes and hoping for the best, Blitzo swung his racquet...

**000**

"That is the _dumbest _game I've ever played!" complained Blitzo as he trudged back into the lobby of the tennis club. "How can you guys find that interesting?"

"Are you kidding?" giggled Arnika, as she put an arm around his shoulders, and pinched the Saiyan's cheek. "It's the funnest sport there is. You're just grumpy because you lost...big time!"

She broke away from him and strolled over to the counter, fishing her credit card from her purse to pay for the hire of the courts. Behind them, by the door, Rhuna and Makurin were bickering over whether the winning smash ace of the game should have been counted.

"It was out, I'm telling you!"

"Out? What a bunch of baloney!"

Blitzo grinned as he watched them. While Rhuna and Makurin tended to disagree over every little thing, they had been great friends their entire lives.

"Anyway," he said, turning back to his spouse, "We didn't lose by _that _much, you have to admit that."

Arnika gave him a sympathetic smile. "OK, you're right. You didn't do that bad for your first match, but you do have that speed and fast reflexes to make up for it..."

Blitzo shook his head in disbelief. "I still thought it was dumb. I need to find a real good sport...something to keep me interested for a while. Know any?"

Arnika pretended to think. "Hmm...I'll let you know if anything springs into mind..."

Exasperated, the Saiyan spread his arms and spun in a circle, sighing as he gazed at the walls. Suddenly, he stopped, his eye catching the noticeboard in the corner of the lobby. A cocky smile spread across his mouth.

"Something like...that," he said, pointing a powerful finger at a poster on the board. Arnika frowned as she tried to read the title from across the room, and even Rhuna and Makurin stopped arguing to see what he was pointing at.

"It's perfect," said Blitzo. "Behold, my friends...the World Martial Arts Tournament!"

**000**

And also behold my longest chapter yet! So, how'd you all like it? I hope you found all of the couples interesting...Rhuna and Ferris, Blitzo and Arnika...what fun, eh?

Funny thing, actually. I was originally planning on only having the robbery at the beginning add up to about 2000 words, but it ended up being about _4500! _Whoopsie...oh well. Anyway, I feel that my writing has been getting more detailed and more interesting, as well as faster. This only took me about 3-4 nights to write.

And, as for the World Martial Arts Tournament...MWAHAHAHAHA! I love the tournament in the Buu Saga, it's one of the best segments of the entire show. I'm looking forward to writing the next few chapters...but just a word of warning...all might not be perfectly safe at the tournament...

See you all next time!


	2. Zeang's Test

**Dragon Ball X**

ARGH!...ARGH!...AAAARRRGGGHHH!

What illness has plagued me that could possibly cause such a delay between chapters? Well, the answer is this; I've lost my motivation for DBX. But why the lack of said motivation? While showering today, a thought proposed itself to me. Perhaps the reason I've lost this inspiration is due to the length of the chapters. Near the end of Volume I, the chapters were getting around 6000 words or so each. Indeed chapter 1 for Volume II here was 8000 words, the most I've ever written in a single chapter.

And it was way too unwieldy for me to write that for each chapter, I realised. I've had Writer's Block for this chapter for the past month and a half, having already written about 4500 words but only being halfway through the chapter. "How absurd!" I cried to myself. For in case you didn't know, I've been writing a new pokemon story, Passion For Glory, and each of those chapters is about 3000-4000 words a chapter, a very comfortable target. Much more comfortable than over 9000. So, I decided to go with what I'd already written for this chapter, and split it into two.

From now on, the chapters will be a manageable size, probably about 3000-4500, just like Passion For Glory. This should allow me to update more frequently, especially given my new system for writing.

Yeah...I can't really think of anything else to add right now...oh yeah, in case any of you were wondering where Zeang was in the last chapter...to be honest, I'd completely forgotten to put him in. He was meant to be at the café with the others, but it just slipped my mind when I was writing it. Don was meant to be there too. Oh well...

Well, without further ado, on with the chapter!

**000**

"The World Martial Arts Tournament?" blinked Mataro, frowning. After a second, his eyes narrowed and a cheeky grin spread across his large face. "Sure, why not? I'll compete if you all are."

He was leaning against the outer wall of Blitzo and Arnika's house, amongst the bushes and trees. Though he didn't look it, Mataro was a keen gardener, and unknown to all but a few people, grew and maintained the only Gaman Plant on the planet. Arnika employed him to manage their new garden.

Opposite the former Eternal Warrior stood Arnika and the Saiyans. Blitzo had made the suggestion to register for the tournament the second he had seen the big man watering the plants.

Arnika tilted her head. "Why are you here, anyway? I thought you had an audition."

"I did. It's already over, and guess what; I got the part!"

Rhuna laughed. "What a surprise. The critics love you."

Mataro waved a hand. "So, when's the tournament, anyway?"

Arnika pulled a folded copy of the poster they had seen in the tennis lobby from her handbag, and passed it to him. Mataro unfolded it and skimmed the poster over, before finding the dates at the bottom.

"Let me see..." he muttered to himself. "Goes for three days, $10,000,000 prize money...ah, here we go! Hmm...two weeks from today...but that's..._damn!"_

"What's up?" asked Blitzo. "Something on that day?"

Mataro bit his lip, before coming to a decision. Quick as a flash, he whipped a mobile phone from his pocket and dialled a number. Since permanently emerging from Hamasan's Hall five years earlier after the defeat of Denkuma at the hands of Blitzo, Mataro had embraced technology much more than the other Eternal Warriors.

"Hello?" he said loudly into the phone, as the others looked on. "Is this Hansel? Yeah, it's Mataro here; sorry, mate, something's come up. You'll have to give the part to someone else."

Arnika looked at him sharply, waving both hands in a "don't" gesture, but it was too late. Mataro had already said farewell and hung up.

"You bloody fool!" Rhuna said exasperatedly, as Makurin rolled his eyes. "Why'd you give up your part?"

Mataro grinned at them all. "I haven't been to a World Martial Arts Tournament in about two hundred years...our isolation made sure of that. And now that I live on the surface...believe me; nothing would stop me from going now."

**000**

Sweat soaked Kenta's body, plastering his normally spiky hair to his head. Little beads of sweat ran down his back, but he ignored them. He had bigger problems to worry about. Like the razor sharp blade searing through the air towards his body.

Faster than Havienly possible, Kenta brought his own weapon up, smashing his blade into the incoming one, and batting it out of its intended path. Spinning to his right, Kenta swung his sword at his opponent, but it was deflected just as easily. Backtracking as quickly as he could, he pointed the tip of his sword at the ground, as his opponent did the same.

Kenta let out a deep breath, staring at the other man. "You've always been that extra level beyond me, haven't you?"

Ferris stared straight back, sweat covering his face as well. "I wouldn't say that exactly. But yes."

Kenta laughed, and leaned on his sword. Unlike Ferris' blood red blade, Shinsou, the steel of Nenriki was a deep blue. Also making the weapons unique were the special properties they both possessed. Two years before, a wish had been made on the Eternal Dragon Azulong, to make the blades indestructible. Neither could be shattered or broken by any means, nor dulled. They were perfect.

Ferris slid Shinsou into the sheath strapped to his back, and clenched his fists. "Enough blade-work for now...after all, weapons aren't allowed in the tournament. Let's fight fist to fist."

Kenta grimaced, and swished his own sword into its scabbard. His arm muscles were straining already, due to the gravity. The two were training in the Gravity Chamber at Blitzo and Arnika's house. Because of the weight of their swords – made from refined super-steel forged by Geani – they could only use them at 5 times Haven's gravity, or else they'd be too heavy to wield normally.

Kenta shifted his stance so that he was ready to take an attack, should Ferris move first. In response, Ferris took an offensive position. His hard blue eyes bored into Kenta's brown ones, daring him to defend.

"You ready?"

Kenta nodded.

"OK...3...2..."

Without warning, Ferris took off from the ground, zooming through the air a few feet off the ground, attempting to take his younger friend by surprise. Instantly, Kenta took a step forwards, and pulled his arm back to throw a punch.

Suddenly, an incredible force surrounded him, restricting his movements. Kenta fought against it, but despite his inhavien strength, couldn't budge. Flickering his eyes – the only part of his body still able to move – upwards, he saw that Ferris couldn't move either, still hovering a foot above the floor, his right leg twisted back about to kick out. The older man's nostrils twitched, and he forced his mouth open, grunting out a few words.

"D...amn...you...let...me...go..."

Still unable to move, Kenta's eyes began to water from not blinking. With a massive effort, he managed to close his eyelids. When, after a great strain, he opened them again, he spied someone entering his field of vision, walking between the two fighters.

He was of medium height, but a good third of that height was made up by his head, which was at least twice the size of a normal Havien's. He was completely bald, lacking even eyebrows, and had small hands and feet. Tiny little veins ran over the top of his skull, and his normally black eyes were glowing bright blue.

The man strolled between Kenta and Ferris, and looked at both of them, an amused look on his face. Reaching out, he gave them both a light shove. Still frozen by the man's psychic powers, Kenta toppled over, unable to stop himself. Likewise, Ferris crashed to the ground.

"Whoopsie, I win..." smirked the big-headed man. His glowing eyes faded back to black, and the pressure fixing Kenta's body in place lifted. The swordsman climbed back to his feet, rubbing his neck.

"You trickster, Zeang," he grumbled. "What are you doing in here, anyway?"

Zeang tilted his head, surveying Kenta with curious eyes. There was still a spark of amusement. And, as Kenta noticed, a devious look. His suspicions were answered a second later.

"I came to see just how strong you've both gotten. I've come to test you."

"Challenge accepted," said Kenta immediately, blood beginning to pump already. Ferris was more hesitant. His sharp eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"Why?"

Zeang shrugged. "Well, the tournament is tomorrow, after all. I was just curious to see how _ready _you are for it."

Ferris nodded slowly. He knew that in the five years since Denkuma had been defeated, Zeang had trained his powers far beyond what he had been capable of before. Of course, his body was fragile, forcing him to rely on his telekinesis to avoid damage. "I see. Very well then, if it's a fight you want, it's a fight you'll get. Before we start though; no paralysis. It's too much of advantage."

Zeang let out a booming laugh. "If you insist."

Kenta cracked his knuckles, ready to begin. Despite being quite exhausted only minutes before, the prospect of a spar with Zeang was enticing, re-energising both of the Haviens. Zeang was curious to fight against; his psychic powers made for an interesting opponent. "What are we waiting for, then? I'm itching for a rumble."

Zeang shrugged a shoulder again. "I have no idea." He walked a short distance away, to the other side of the massive Gravity Chamber and turned back to them, arms splayed to either side. "Begin!"

Instantly, both Kenta and Ferris took off from the ground, hurricaning across the chamber towards the waiting Zeang, who didn't move. Kenta slowed down, letting Ferris in first. The older man zoomed in front, by now only a few metres from his target. Twisting in the air, he tore his right foot around, letting out a long grunt.

Zeang's raised a hand, and made a small swish. Ferris yelled as an invisible force caught him and hurled him to the side. He skidded along the floor and hit the wall, which cracked under the impact. Meanwhile, Kenta took his turn on the offensive, raising a fist as he flew, but he too was thrown aside by Zeang's mind. The alien smiled pleasantly; he hadn't moved from his spot the whole time.

Grunting, Kenta climbed back to his feet, a grimace on his young face. Likewise, Ferris was back upright as well, and the two Haviens stared down their opponent.

"_He's got a major advantage," _thought Kenta. "_With his telekinesis, he can stop us from even touching him."_

"Well?" said Zeang softly. "I'm waiting."

Ferris signalled to Kenta, and the Havien nodded. Hovering a foot of the ground, he leaned forwards and torpedoed towards Zeang, a cry rising in his throat. The sound echoed throughout the chamber as Kenta drew closer. At the same time, Ferris bent his legs slightly, before shooting straight up in the air and disappearing from sight altogether just before hitting the roof, fading into the air.

Kenta reached Zeang, who turned his head to look at the Slavoan descendant about to attack. His eyes twitched, and Kenta lost control of his flight, zooming straight past his opponent and hitting the wall again. Zeang shook his head.

"Do you think I'd be hit by an obvious attack like that?"

Kenta struggled back to his feet, and to Zeang's surprise a cocky grin reached his face. "No...but I'm not sure about the next one..."

Zeang's eyes widened with shock as he realised the significance of Kenta's words, but before he could move a muscle, Ferris materialised behind him, fist raised. With a harsh yell, Ferris fired his hand forwards towards the back of Zeang's skull, when suddenly...

With a strange cracking noise, Ferris' hand slammed into an invisible barrier, stopping the attack in its tracks. Small blue ripples flowed from the impact point, slowly fading away as they got further out. Zeang gasped at the close call, spinning around to face Ferris.

"_If I hadn't have had that shield up as a precaution," _thought the alien, as he gazed upon the Havien, who was staring in chagrin at the forcefield.

"Kenta!" barked Ferris. "All-out, _go!"_

The man drew back his fist and struck at Zeang again, once again being stopped by the shield. Opposite him, Kenta joined in, delivering a crushing kick that was deflected.

"_They're trying to break through the shield!" _realised Zeang, and thrust out his arms, sending both Haviens flying back away from him, buying the alien a few seconds. He closed his eyes and focussed on the forcefield, preparing to strengthen it.

Too late.

Kenta slammed his entire body into Zeang, throwing them backwards. Zeang stumbled a few steps, struggling to regain his balance. In that moment, his concentration broke. Twenty metres away, Ferris let out a terrifying roar, and his ki exploded, a massive red aura surrounding him. Zeang was horrified; he hadn't seen that aura for almost five years, since Ferris had first been brought back to life...

"Kaio-_Ken!" _the man bellowed, and simply vanished, moving so fast across the room that he was invisible. Zeang had a heartbeat to react, before Ferris reappeared. The Havien's foot rocketed through the air and shattered Zeang's weakened shield in an instant, cracking the forcefield completely, before striking Zeang on the bridge of his nose. The alien shouted in pain as he was thrown back, as Ferris' speed and strength returned to normal.

Blood streamed from Zeang's nose, as Ferris and Kenta drew their swords in identical movements, before simultaneously raising them above their heads and leaping into the air.

Zeang saw them coming through a haze of red mist, but he was far from out. Kicking his powers into action, the alien's eyes glowed bright blue and he pointed at a point on the wall at the far end of the Gravity Chamber.

"Time to _put you down_!" he shouted, and flicked his wrist.

CLANG!

Kenta let out a cry as the gravity increased by several magnitudes and his sword, Nenriki, dropped to the ground like a stone. A few metres away, the same thing had happened to Ferris, and the unexpected extra weight pushed both fighters to their knees. Zeang also let out a loud grunt, but stayed on his feet, expecting the change. Nevertheless, he was visibly struggling to stay standing, despite using his powers to help him support his body. Blood still trickled down his face from the blow Ferris had dealt him before.

"What the-! What did you do?" yelled Ferris, and Zeang gave him a strained grin.

"Perhaps you forgot where we were?" he gasped. "I simply used our surroundings to my advantage."

Ferris realised instantly, his strategical brain working out his mistake. Using his telekinesis, Zeang had played with the gravity controls on the small panel on the wall, turning the gravity to its absolute maximum of 200x Haven's gravity. As he watched, the alien probed out again, and turned the gravity back to normal. Ferris and Kenta stood up, massaging their aching muscles.

"Impressive performance," complimented Zeang as he nursed his own injury, feeling gingerly at his nose. "You still wield the Kaio-Ken, I see."

Ferris shook his head. "I use it rarely, my friend, if ever. There is no need to."

Zeang smiled wearily. Though it looked effortless, using his powers against foes like Ferris and Kenta was no walk in the park. "Well, I can definitely say that you're ready for the tournament. The other competitors will fall beneath your strength."

Kenta snorted. "Of course they will. The only fighters we have to fear are each other."

Zeang closed his eyes in amusement, and slowly turned to the door, strolling out of the chamber.

"Indeed. See you at the tournament."

**000**

"Come on folks, round up, round up, buy a brand new dream bracelet for your loved ones, what do you say, Miss?"

"Hotdogs, come get your hotdogs!"

"Place your bets, place your bets! Who do _you _think will win the tournament?"

The World Martial Arts Tournament was chaos in the few hours before it began. Vendors shouted stereotypical offers, people rushed over to accept them, small children slipped away from parents, thieves pickpocketed everyone in sight. The crowd generally massed in the city market square in front of the massive stadium where the tournament took place.

The stadium itself was impressive enough, even without all the hype. Square in shape, it contained far more than just the arena; training rooms, waiting rooms, gift shops, storage areas, infirmaries, you name it. Tournament stuff hurried to get everything exactly as it was needed in the hour before the first fights began. Though the stadium was open to the public, a surprisingly small amount of people were actually inside, most preferring to take advantage of the massive stalls and shops in the city square in front of the stadium. And among that crowd of people, a small group made their way through the throng, ignoring the offers thrown at them, attempting to get to the stadium.

"Really, this is ridiculous," snapped Kenta as he looked around and realised that he'd lost the others in the few seconds of moving through a small crowd of people. He closed his eyes and expanded his ki, searching around him, locating the others within seconds. Not gently, he forced his way through the crowd towards them.

"This is a deathtrap!" he grumbled as he caught up to Mataro. A metre ahead stood Makurin, Rhuna, Zeang, and Ferris, and a metre on front of _them _stood Blitzo and Arnika. Together, and with great effort, they managed to escape the throng and emerge on the other side of the marketplace. The stadium loomed above. "I can't wait til' the tournament starts already."

"Agreed," said Mataro. His large frame placed him at least half a head above the majority of the crowd. "I'm itching for a good fight. 'Couse, I probably won't get one unless it's against one of you guys."

Kenta smirked. "Yeah, you're right. Hey, I wonder who else is competing apart from all of us."

"No one that's a threat, I'd say…"

Up ahead, Blitzo and Arnika led the way to the stadium, chatting quietly to one another.

"Maybe this'll be a fun enough sport," Blitzo pondered. "It'll sure beat Tennis."

Arnika laughed airily, punching the Saiyan lightly on the shoulder. "Oh, be quiet. Tennis is the best sport there is."

"Says you. Fighting gets the blood pumping so much more than running around hitting a little fuzzy ball. The thrill of the battle is the best feeling in the world."

"Speaking of which, good luck today, sweetie."

Blitzo smiled warmly, and put his arm around Arnika's slender shoulders, drawing her in close. "Thanks, Arnie."

He was the only person in the world apart from Arnika's father Don who was allowed to call her that. Anyone else got answered with a punch in the mouth for their trouble. She laughed, and wrapped herarm around his back, and rested her head backwards and to the side, onto his shoulder.

The moment was broken by Makurin whacking Blitzo on the back.

"Hey, Romeo, can we hurry up a little?"

Blitzo scowled as he turned towards the other Saiyan. They'd been friends since childhood –all the way back on Planet Vegeta – but the two Saiyans had something of a rivalry between them, a rivalry only intensified by Blitzo's superior strength. Still, Makurin wasn't too far behind, training even more relentlessly than Blitzo in an effort to catch up.

Finally, they reached the stretch of road between the marketplace and the stadium. The road was designed to allow high-ups in the community to be delivered directly to the stadium, and even as they arrived by the road, a black limousine drove slowly past, stopping in front of the stadium and cutting across the group's route. Instantly, several reporters with cameramen surrounded the limo, waiting for the doors to open.

"Huh? Who's that?" pondered Mataro as he and Kenta moved to catch up with the others. "Come to think of it, why didn't _we _come in a limo? It would have saved us shoving through _that_." He jerked his thumb over his shoulder, gesturing back towards the marketplace.

"Because of them," replied Zeang, nodding at the reporters. "A hassle, to say the least. It's actually more convenient to go through the crowd, I'd say.

"Who's in the limo, anyway?" asked Ferris, taking a step forward. His question was answered a second later as the side door of the limo swung open, and the owner stepped out. He was massive, with a chestful of muscles and a bristly thick moustache. He was also, to Blitzo's dismay, regrettably familiar.

"Mr Coster, sir," cried a reporter, shoving a microphone in the man's face. "Are the rumours that you're competing in the tournament today true? Has your back fully recovered?"

"Yes, those rumours _are _true," said the muscular man, grabbing onto the microphone with a meaty hand. "My back has fully healed, and I'm looking forward to kicking some arse today."

It was Baldwin Coster, a man all too familiar to the Saiyans, as well as to Zeang, Arnika, Kenta, and Ferris. Mataro, having lived underground for centuries until five years ago, was less knowledgable.

Coster was a former World Martial Arts Champion, who after winning the Championship, and feigned a back injury and had been declared by his fraud doctor to be unable to fight again, therefore granting Coster his title forever; if he couldn't fight, he couldn't lose. When the Saiyans had first arrived on Haven, it was discovered that Coster owned a Dragon Ball, and the newcomers to the planet had gone to barter if from him. After a very one-sided fight between Coster and Rhuna, the Dragon Ball had been collected.

"_He's _competing?" spat Arnika. "Now I wish that _I _had have entered, so I could beat him up myself."

"That pleasure's reserved for me," snarled Rhuna. "I half-killed him once, I'm looking forward to doing the other half…" Grumbling under her breath, the Saiyan girl cracked her knuckles (with cracks as loud as gunshots), scowling.

The two females stood, both staring with utter hatred at the man who stood before them. Coster was busy with the press, soaking up the glory and recognition, posing for shots and showing off his muscles.

"I'd take him on in an arm wrestle any day," growled Kenta, staring fiercely at the fraud in front of him.

A few minutes later, the reporters faded away, following Coster as he made his way into the stadium. After the limo pulled away, the group of superhavien fighters crossed the street and entered the stadium themselves.

"Here we are," said Ferris. "The tournament begins in one hour."

**000**

Wooh, it's such a relief to finally finish a bloody chapter. I know, I know, about time, eh? You know it's been THREE MONTHS since I did the first chapter? I'm ashamed! Not only that, this isn't exactly up to par with the standard I usually aim for; it just feels off to me. Maybe it's better. You tell me.

So, how'd you all like it? Yes, Zeang's advanced several levels in badass, going from one of the weakest to somewhere right near the top due to his psychic powers. Hmm...I'm thinking that I'd better update the Power Level chart, right?

Blitzo: 179,000

Makurin: 153,000

Rhuna: 140,000

Zeang: 95,000 (Physically that is; he's a lot stronger because of his mental capabilities)

Kenta: 120,000

Ferris: 145,000

Ferris (Kaio-Ken): 290,000

Geani: 123,000

Mataro: 119,000

Arasha: 120,000

Korros: 162,000

Arnika: 31,000

And, the tournament is about to begin! But who will fight who in the first round? What challenges will our heroes face? Can Coster possibly do any damage at all? And the greatest question of all; what dangers lurk at the tournament…? Find out next time on Dragon Ball X!


	3. Preliminaries

**Dragon Ball X**

**Guardians of Tranquility**

Hi there.

Yeah, if you read my pokemon story Passion for Glory, you'd know that I'm meant to be doing my NaNoWriMo, writing a 50,000 words in a month. Well, I _was _doing well, keeping up with my word counts and all that. But the stress-load was incredible and I began to fall behind on my assignments, having to take an entire day off school to finish them. So, I've unfortunately decided to stop the NaNoWriMo, but not the novel. I'm still writing it, just not in a month.

Anyway, that means I can pay attention to my other fics again, so I'm gonna do a chapter of this. Feel lucky ;)

Anyway, on with the chapter!

**000**

"How long do we have?" asked Blitzo, and Kenta looked at the watch on his arm.

"Still forty-five minutes until the tournament. Forty until they reveal who's fighting who. I can't wait to find out who my opponent is."

Zeang smiled. "Sorry, Kenta, but they only reveal who the first pair is. Before each match they do a draw. You don't find out until the beginning of your match who you're fighting."

Kenta sagged his shoulders, looking mopey. "How do you know that?"

"It's in the competitor's handbook. I suppose you didn't read it?"

The three of them were walking down one of the corridors in the stadium, weaving around small groups of people. Some were competitors preparing for the tournament, but most were spectators waiting for the tournament to begin. Excitement ran rampant in the air; you could almost smell it.

"Nope. Let's just get this food and get back to the others."

After volunteering to pick up snacks, they'd left the rest of the group in the Fighter's Barracks, and now found themselves wandering the hallways of the stadium rim.

Zeang clapped his hands. "So…ready? All prepared for the bouts?"

Kenta nodded, but Blitzo just smirked cockily. "Not that we needed to really train at all. The only threat is each other."

Kenta and Zeang both nodded in agreement. "Of course," added Blitzo. "You know who's the most dangerous to fight."

Kenta looked grim. "Of course I do; Ferris."

"Yes," replied Zeang. "You're stronger than him normally, Blitzo, but he has an advantage over everybody."

"The Kaio-Ken."

"Yes. What an ability…Even after these years I still find it difficult to comprehend just how impressive a technique it is. To be able to double your power at will; at his level he could destroy Denkuma in an instant."

Blitzo frowned. If there was one thing a Saiyan hated, it was knowing that someone else was stronger than them. Generally gentle and respecting as he was, Blitzo's Saiyan instincts ran deep in his blood, the fierce nature of his warrior race still present.

"The Kaio-Ken…" he said thoughtfully. "It reminds me of that old legend. The Super Saiyan."

"Huh?" Kenta had never heard the term, and was confused. Zeang smiled at the memory, and explained.

"A Super Saiyan was said to possess tremendous power far beyond his normal limits. According to the legend, one hasn't appeared for a thousand years, but there's no proof that they ever existed. Most Saiyans discard it as a folly myth."

Kenta frowned. "Super Saiyan, huh? What do you think, Blitzo, do you believe in it?"

Blitzo smiled sadly. "To be honest, I don't even know. I definitely used to when I was a kid, but I guess I don't anymore. Most of us just used it to taunt Saiyans who thought they were strong."

He started as a memory flashed back to him. In his last conversation with a Saiyan other than Makurin or Rhuna, Bardock had joked about Super Saiyans with him. As always, he felt a twinge in his heart as he thought about his old friend.

Kenta spoke again. "These Super Saiyans remind me of an old Havien legend, actually. Pretty similar - can't remember what they were called, though. Anyway, they were said to have enormous strength as well."

Blitzo smirked. "Well, Zeang? We've covered Saiyans and Haviens. Do the Gakusha have any fabled warriors?"

For a second, Kenta was confused, before he recalled that Zeang's race was called the Gakusha. It didn't come up in conversation too much…

Zeang shook his head. "Nope. Just good honest-to-goodness training. Some of the elders were said to have extremely powerful minds though…Now come on, let's get this food and head back to the barracks."

"Can do," said Blitzo eagerly, rubbing his hands together. "Nothing like a good meal before some old-fashioned ass-kicking."

Kenta laughed. "You've got that right."

**000**

Arnika frowned as she looked at the man on the other side of the room. He'd been eyeing her for some time now, a hungry look in his face, and she didn't like it. Not one bit.

The man was remarkably skinny for a fighter, and wore no shirt. He packed a punch though, savagely attacking a punching bag in the barracks. His speed was admirable.

"_Well," _thought Arnika as she surveyed the man. "_Admirable for a regular Havien, anyway…"_

The Fighting Barracks was a mixture of a waiting room and a practise arena, located around the main ring in the centre of the stadium. Above the roof of the Barracks were the grandstands, and even this early before the matches begun you could hear the sounds of hundreds for people fighting for good seats.

The ring itself was a massive rectangular arena made of grey tiles, surrounded by a large moat of bright green grass. The rules were simple; if you fell out of the arena and touched the grass, you were out and lost the match. Other ways to lose were by being beaten unconscious, disqualification, and of course, forfeiting.

This close to the beginning of the tournament, all of the competitors – about one hundred of them – were waiting in the Barracks for the pairings to be announced. Some were resting, others were training. And in the case of Ferris, Mataro, Rhuna, and Makurin, chatting to each other while waiting for Kenta, Blitzo and Zeang to return with food. Accompanying them was Arnika. While normally only competitors were allowed in the Barracks, Arnika had used her influence and wealth to obtain a Gateway Pass, allowing her to access virtually any area of the stadium.

And now, while the others chatted casually, she found herself being stared at by this man. His sneering rat face was covered by rough stubble, and he had disgusting crooked teeth. Arnika gave up playing the looking game, and called across the room to him.

"Do you want something? I'm taken, you know," she said in disdain.

The man smiled a leering sneer, and swaggered over. Arnika wrinkled her nose. He smelled of sweat. The others looked around as he approached, but didn't seem alarmed. Arnika could handle herself, they all knew.

"Taken, ay?" said the man. "Well, no surprise there, little miss. What're ya doing down here with the brutes? Maybe ya'd like to come and cheer for me instead. The name's Jan Binks. I'm much more of a gentleman than anyone else in this tournament."

Arnika raised an eyebrow, her green pupils staring in dull indifference. _"_Really?" she answered sarcastically. "Well, in that case I _definitely _want to be your girlfriend."

Binks scowled at her, and began to grab her arm. Arnika slapped the hand away, taking extreme care to not injure his fingers. Binks made a face, laughing.

"I like you," he said. "You're a tricky one as well as pretty. Come on, don't you want to cheer for me in the tournament?"

He reached for her arm again, but stopped very suddenly as he felt a cold steel at his neck, and a razor sharp pain nicking at the skin there. Arnika looked over his shoulder.

"Allow me to introduce you to a real _live _gentleman," she said. "Too bad he's only gentle without his knives. Glad you could make it, Geani."

"The pleasure's all mine," said the newcomer, wiggling the dagger he held at Bink's throat. "This fellow giving you any trouble?"

Arnika tilted her head, looking at Binks, who gazed frightfully back, his confidence disappearing in an instant at this occurrence. "Not really. Just a bit annoying."

Geani nodded. One of the Eternal Warriors who had fought Denkuma, Geani was a master swordsman and blacksmith, the unofficial leader of the Eternal Warriors. As always, he wore rough leather belts, though had forsaken his usual twin knife belts for today, bringing only a single dagger, which he now held against Binks' windpipe, threatening to drag it across and end the man's career (not to mention life). "I thought so."

"Hey!" whimpered Binks, trying to inch to the side, but Geani held him fast with his free hand. "You're not allowed weapons in here, they're banned in the tournament!"

"Exactly," answered Geani, and shoved Binks away from him, before spinning his knife from its reversed grip and sliding it back into its single scabbard. Binks stumbled a few metres, falling to his knees. Terrified, he scrambled back to his feet, pointing wildly at the swordsman, who continued. "They _are _banned from the tournament, but I'm not in the tournament, am I now?"

He glanced at Arnika. "Thanks for the spare Gateway Pass, by the way. Arasha will be along soon."

"No problem, Geani," said Arnika, and the two of them turned to walk back to the others, but as they passed Binks, Arnika stopped, looking with sadistic pleasure at him. He stared back, the confidence before replaced with fear and bewilderment.

"Oh, by the way," she said, and stuck two fingers up his nose, one in each nostril. Binks yelled in pain as Arnika's fingers dug into the sensitive cartilage in his inner nose, and had to stand on his toes as she tugged upwards, pulling him up. Binks marvelled at her strength; she didn't even look to be trying. "Don't ask me that again. I don't really like watching buffoons."

She released her fingers from his nostrils and kept walking, joining her companions, as Binks clawed painfully at his nose, whimpering and backing away. He quickly disappeared to another part of the Barracks, wanting to get away from this woman as quickly as possible.

Arnika giggled. "That was fun!"

**000**

The hundred or so fighters (plus Arnika, Geani, Arasha, and Zeang) gathered eagerly around a large board on the wall of the Fighters Barracks. Behind them was a large doorway, leading into a hallways which eventually opened to the arena. It was time for the pairings to begin. Whoever was picked for the fight would go through the archway and the match would commence. Two officials stood beside the board, one of them holding a large stack of cards.

"Alright, listen up!" he called. "The first match begins in five minutes." He picked the top two cards, and everybody held their breath. "And the competitors in the first match are…"

He slapped the first card onto the board, where it stuck in place, probably held up by some magnetic force. Blitzo – standing at the back of the crowd with the others, largely unconcerned, smirked as he read the name on the card.

"Well, I'm up first. How about that?" he said, and yawned. Kenta looked at him in jealousy. Makurin just grunted. Like Blitzo, he found the notion of going first to be an irrelevant one.

"But who's your opponent?" asked Ferris, slightly more interested, but not by much. He was more interested in his own fight, whenever it would be.

Once again, the crowd held their breath as the official raised the second card, before placing it dramatically up on the board beside Blitzo's.

"What?" Blitzo's eyebrows shot up in surprise as he read the name, and Arnika gasped. "Already?"

"It seems so," said Zeang. "Good luck to both of you."

Blitzo glanced behind him at his opponent. Mataro - an Eternal Warrior and a fierce melee combatant – was no pushover. Despite his large frame, he was pretty darn fast; his training in the Gravity Room for the past five years had seen to that.

"Should be fun," said Blitzo, and Mataro winked.

"That it will be, young Saiyan. I was actually rather hoping I'd be able to fight you."

Together, with every eye on them, the two turned towards the entrance hallway, and side-by-side they began to walk, always under the scrutiny of everyone in the room. Blitzo felt his blood begin to pump harder and harder as he prepared for the –

Quite suddenly, the two opponents stopped walking, both of them pulled back by the same force. Blitzo gagged as his short tightened around his neck, pulled from behind. As they had begun to walk to their match, Geani had quickly stepped forward and pulled them back, and was now holding them both by the backs of their collars.

"Listen up, knuckleheads," he said quietly. "We don't want to draw too much attention to ourselves, so tone the fight down a little, OK? Don't go all out and _don't _start zipping around in the air. No flying, you understand?"

Grimacing, they both nodded, and Geani let go, sending the two fighters on their way again. Each started the way they'd left off, dramatically striding into the hallway, each trying to make himself look more important and badass than the other.

"_God I look awesome,"_ thought Blitzo as he walked.

"_Fighting's only half the battle," _thought Mataro, deliberately stretching up to his full height. "_Showmanship counts."_

"_What the hell are they doing?" _thought Arnika, an embarrassed bead of sweat running down her neck.

"They look like fools," muttered Arasha. The third member of the Eternal Warriors had arrived a few minutes after Geani, wearing the same leather armour as he did, only black instead of brown. Her piercing violet eyes stared with chagrin after her two companions.

"Come on," said Kenta. "Let's get to the grandstands so we can watch the fight!"

"I'm down," said Rhuna. "Let's go."

**000**

Bright sunlight seared into Blitzo's eyes as he and Mataro emerged from the tunnel into the arena. Surrounding them on all sides was at least six thousand people, all of them screaming and cheering as the first combatants arrived. TV cameras lined the edge of the crowd, and an announcer stood by the ring, microphone in hand. Already he was screaming into it, only causing the crowd to cheer louder as he declared their names.

"You've seen him before in movies such as The Clockbolt, Round the Keyhole, and My Aunt's Constipation, but I better you never knew he could fight!" boomed the announcer, and Mataro winced. That last movie had been a rather embarrassing one, especially since it was based on a real story. "Here he is, ladies and gentlemen – Mataro Fenix!"

The crowd swelled in pride, letting out a massive cheer in unison. Mataro was pretty well-known these days, and was a fan favourite.

"And facing him is a newcomer to the Martial Arts Tournament; husband of billionaire Arnika Hale, he's a self-proclaimed martial-arts expert. Let's find out if he's telling the truth! Give it up for Blitzo Hale!"

Blitzo's cheer was noticeable less enthusiastic, but the knowledge of his relationship to Arnika gave him some recognition. Blitzo scowled at the announcer.

"Self-proclaimed expert?" he scoffed. "I'll self-proclaim him a new arse if he wants."

Mataro chuckled. "It's just to get the crowd rolling. Now it's our turn."

They reached the ring itself, stepping up onto the tiles and splitting up, positioning themselves on either end of the arena. Blitzo could feel the bloodlust surging through his body, lighting his veins on fire, but he forced his Saiyan instincts down.

"Let the match begin!"

At the edge of the stadium, Arnika and Kenta forced their way into the front line of the crowd, the siblings equally excited about watching the fight. Travelling less urgently behind them were the others, lining up behind the barrier of the grandstand to watch their friends duke it out. Geani had his arms folded.

"Go Blitzo!" shouted Arnika. "Show him who's the top Saiyan around here!"

Rhuna and Makurin rolled their eyes at each other.

Blitzo could feel his instincts growing stronger, and began struggling to repress them. He hadn't had a decent fight in months; he had to let it all out.

"_I can't fly in this match,"_ he thought, thinking of Geani's warning, and crouched down, ready to spring. The Saiyan held his arms across his body at perpendicular angles, elbows tucked in. "_He wouldn't be happy if I draw too much attention to our strength. Better just stick to jumps and speed."_

Across from him, Mataro furrowed his brow. Blitzo was a formidable opponent; after all, he'd been the one to kill Denkuma, who'd easily bested Mataro himself. But five years of training in a very useful gravity chamber did wonders for one's muscles. Mataro had doubled his strength and speed in the past five years.

Slowly, the crowd's cheers died down as they waited for the fighters to move. What was taking so long? The referee had started the match. Fight already!

And then, to the amazement of every single person in the audience, Blitzo disappeared from sight entirely, fading into a blur of lines before vanishing completely. More than one draw dropped.

As one, the crowd gasped in shock as Blitzo reappeared, directly behind Mataro. He still was still in his crouching position, facing the same way that he'd been before, his back to Mataro. Even Geani and Arasha raised their eyebrows in surprise.

"So fast!" muttered Makurin, furious. Blitzo's increasing abilities were beyond his. "How does he do it, damn him?"

Mataro's eyes shot open at the manoeuvre, but he was too astonished to make one of his own, only turning his head to look behind him.

"Wha-!"

A cry tore from Blitzo - drowning out Mataro's shocked gasp - and he rocketed around, leaping off his left foot and kicking with all the energy he could muster with his right. His booted foot slammed into Mataro's cheek.

The sheer force of the blow staggered Mataro both physically and mentally. He was hurled through the air like a limp rag-doll, but rolled as soon as he landed, recovering quickly. But despite his quick landing he was panting heavily, staring at Blitzo with reverence. The Saiyan had spun in the air from the momentum after landing the kick, and was back into his crouching position, arms still splayed at right angles.

"_What speed," _thought Mataro, impressed. "_I could barely even see him. He's been training in that area alright…But so have I!"_

And moving just as quickly as Blitzo had, Mataro vanished as well, zooming across the ring until he was crouched right next to Blitzo. The Saiyan gasped; he hadn't expected Mataro to retaliate in kind, and yelled as the Slavoan Warrior smashed his elbow into the side of Blitzo's head.

Like Mataro, Blitzo was knocked right off his feet by the impact, sliding roughly across the tiles before halting. He climbed slowly to his feet, working his jaw.

"Not bad, old friend," he said, grinning.

"You too."

The crowd watched in stunned silence at the two fighters. They'd never seen anything like it, these guys were beyond anything. And in that moment, there was no doubt whatsoever that Mataro did his own stunts in his movies.

Even the announcer was gobsmacked; he just stared silently, the microphone forgotten.

"Finally, that moron has shut up," said Ferris, and Kenta laughed, but then his eyes widened.

"What the -!"

BOOM!

There was a loud shockwave as Mataro and Blitzo's fists slammed together. The two fighters themselves couldn't be seen, they were moving so fast. Several more shocks followed, all around the ring, as the Saiyan and the Havien collided again and again. Finally, they ceased, and Blitzo and Mataro became visible to the naked eye again.

They stood in the centre of the arena, exchanging blows one by one. Kenta watched in awe as their arms darted back and forth, slicing through the air and being blocked or intercepted. He winced as Mataro took a crushing blow to the chest, and then again as Blitzo copped it in the stomach.

"_It's like they don't feel pain!" _he thought as they continued unfettered. They didn't even seem to notice being hit.

Blitzo grinned wildly as he fought, relying on sheer instinct and reflexes to know where the next strike would come from. He struck out, catching Mataro on the chin. The Havien grinned back.

"I haven't had a fight this good in months!" he shouted, and Blitzo shook his head.

"Neither have I!"

He lashed out again, but this time, Mataro didn't even attempt to block, ducking down and twisting instead. Blitzo's instincts yelled at him, and he scissored over Mataro's outstretched leg. Focussing entirely on the sweep, however, he missed the next attack, and was blown back several metres as Mataro's other foot slammed into his abdomen.

"Not bad," he yelled, skidding over the tiles, and concentrated, sending a flow of his energy into his palms. "Catch!"

Two ki balls formed in his hands, summoned from his very body, and he hurled them wildly at Mataro, who sprinted forward. As the ki balls reached him, he swept them away with two well-timed chops, and put the base of his hands together, wrists touching and palms facing forward. One large ki balls sprung from his own hands, at least three times as big as Blitzo's.

The Saiyan laughed in the thrill of the fight as Mataro's ki orb hummed through the air towards him, and caught it, before throwing it high above him, where it exploded in the sky. Less than a second later, his arms still above his head in the act of tossing the ball, Mataro reached him.

"Yargh!" the man bellowed, arm tearing through the space between them. It caused the very air itself to ripple, and thundered into Blitzo, knocking the Saiyan back for the second time.

Blitzo grimaced in sudden apprehension as he saw the edge of the arena a few metres away, and forced his body to the ground using his ki, stopping about four feet from the edge. The green grass stared at him as he crouched on one knee, one hand held beside his leg on the tiles. It had been close. The second a competitor touched the ground outside of the ring itself, they lost.

And then, as Blitzo looked back to Mataro, a plan immediately formed in his mind. Mataro was once again running towards him, arm held back. A glowing ball of energy was suspended in it.

"This is it," said Zeang. "I can sense it. Whether Mataro lands this hit or not, the fight will be over in thirty seconds."

Ferris looked at him. "How do you know?"

"Blitzo has that look in his eye," said Makurin, and Rhuna nodded.

And just as Mataro reached within a metre distance and thrust downwards with the ball of ki, Blitzo shot up from his crouch, leaping over Mataro's head. As he flew, his knee collided with Mataro's forehead, sending a wave of pain across the man's entire body. He lost control of the orb, and it disappeared, fading away as Mataro's concentration was shattered.

Blitzo somersaulted and landed, before spinning and jumping backwards. Mataro had straightened up and turned just at the wrong time, and Blitzo's foot impacted on the man's jaw, throwing him off the edge of the arena and flying over the grass, two metres out.

"Blitzo won!" gasped Arnika, but it wasn't over yet.

For Blitzo had predicted one more thing; after over five hundred years of training, Mataro's instincts would be dominant, whether he willed it or not. And so, just as Blitzo knew he would, Mataro involuntary threw his ki beneath him, holding himself above the grass.

The man opened his eyes, gasping. It had been a reflex action to stop himself from hitting the ground, but it was too late to stop it. He was flying, and in a few seconds people would notice.

He didn't have to worry for long.

Because after Blitzo had knocked Mataro out of the ring, he had leapt out _himself_, jumping at least three metres into the air. The crowd gasped in shock as Blitzo performed another somersault to gain momentum, before coming down with a crash, slamming his feet squarely in Mataro's stomach, crushing the man into the ground.

And there they were, Mataro lying on the grass, completely out of the ring, and Blitzo, balancing on top of him, using his opponent to stop _himself _from touching the ground.

There was silence for at least five seconds, before the announcer recovered. "INCREDIBLE! Blitzo Hale has defeated Mataro in the very first round, earning himself another bout. Give him a cheer, folks!"

And in response, the crowd did what crowds do best, raising to their feet and roaring their guts out. Blitzo allowed himself a few seconds of glory before stepping off Mataro and pulling his friend to his feet.

Mataro grunted as he stood, dusting himself off, before giving a weary grin.

"Congrats, Blitzo. Whoo, you did a number on me."

Blitzo gestured towards the cheering crowd. "So much for discreet, eh?"

Mataro gave his normal booming laugh, clapping Blitzo on the shoulder. "Geani's gonna have our heads on a platter."

They turned and walked side by side back to the Fighters Barracks, as the next two competitors walked out. Blitzo frowned. There was only one. A scrawny man, with no shirt and a sneering rat face. Arnika had pointed him out before. Jan Binks, or something.

After reaching the safety of the tunnel leading back to the Barracks, Blitzo turned back to the arena, and saw the other fighter walking onto the raised ring. Blitzo's mouth dropped open in shock.

The other fighter was tall, with no hair. He had pale skin that was bordering on white, and it had a sickly looking blue tinge to it.

And he was wearing yellow battle armour.

The kind used by both the Saiyans and members of the World Trade Organisation.

Instantly, Blitzo froze in shock, a bead of sweat running down the back of his neck, but it had nothing to do with the exertion of the fight.

"_They found us…"_

It had been six years since Planet Vegeta had been destroyed. For six years they'd lived free from the evil rule of Frieza. But now, it seemed…no longer.

"And next up, we have the wiry Jan Binks! He may look puny, but he packs a punch, folks. But who's this he's up against? Well, he says his name is Primal, and with that armor and those muscles, we weren't going to ask for more. Give it up for our next fighters!"

The fighter with the battle armour glared fiercely around at the people in the crowd, who ignored his expression and cheered anyway. And then, the warrior looked past Binks and saw Blitzo, who was still standing in the doorway, frozen at this revelation.

Primal's fierce black eyes widened in surprise as well.

"_He's recognised me…"_ thought Blitzo. "_He knows that I'm a Saiyan. What's he doing here? Could he have actually been tracking us? Does he actually work for Frieza?"_

"Let the match begin!"

Binks pounced forwards, dancing nimbly around, fists raised.

"Bring it, sucker!" he cackled. "I'm gonna teach you who's the top dog around her-URGH!"

Blitzo gasped as Primal lashed out. He hadn't taken his eye off Blitzo for a second, wordlessly swiping his hand and backhanding Binks across the face. The bare-chested fighter hurricaned through the air, blown right out of the ring in a single blow. The crowd was completely silent, as the announcer stuttered into the microphone.

"B-But…W-Wow, folks. K-knocked out in a single hit. Who is this guy, h-huh?"

Primal ignored the crowd's horrified expressions and the announcers attempt to break the tension, merely staring into Blitzo's eyes. Suddenly, his head tilted a complete ninety degrees, turning horizontal, and a sadistic grin burst onto Primal's face.

"_Soon, Saiyan," _the smile seemed to say. "_Soon it will be your turn…"_

**000**

Wah? Who is this Primal guy? He sure is strong…but is he working for Frieza? What are his real intentions, and what is he doing on Haven?

I'm glad I got this chapter down. I've been working unsuccessfully on that fight for weeks, writing and then deleting, writing and deleting. I just couldn't get it good when they couldn't fly. Luckily Naruto inspired me, and I came up with that. Pretty good in the end, I reckon. Kudos to me!

And so much for 3000-4000 words, eh? More like 5000. Strangely, this only took me about 4-5 hours to write the whole thing, showing how little effort I really put into putting aside time to write...Oh well...

Anyway, stay tuned. The action is only just beginning…


	4. Primal Instincts

**Dragon Ball X**

Why, hello there. Nice to see you guys again ;)

So, let me do the thing I normally do and talk about stuff, then declare "On with the chapter"; It's been a while since the last chapter, even though I promised I'd be able to do more. Sorry about that. In fact, it's been just over a month since I last updated. Oh, the SHAME! *Covers face*

On with the chapter!

**000**

"I don't like this."

Blitzo was aware of the eyes of Zeang, Makurin, and Ferris on him as he spoke, his black pupils focussed upon their enemy. Down in the arena, Primal effortlessly snapped his opponent's arm in two, the bone snapping like a twig in the hands of a bored child. As the crowd watched on, varying between complete awe and a shocked disgust, Primal slammed his palm into the other fighter's chest, throwing him back out of the ring in a single blow.

The match had started ten seconds before.

"Who _is _he?" muttered Blitzo, fingers tightening on the rail he was leaning on. The iron bar crumpled in his grasp, leaving two sets of fingers wrapped around the crushed rail.

It was the second day of the tournament, and by now any weak casual competitors had been eliminated from the running. But even the most seasoned fighters fell easily before the super-powered Saiyans, Kenta, and Ferris, who had all easily dispatched every opponent they had been pitted against.

But none with this ruthless efficiency that Primal was showing now. He didn't hold back, smashing through the ranks and growing closer and closer to the finals with every victory.

After recognising Blitzo as a Saiyan immediately after the warrior's defeat of Mataro the day before, Primal had made no move to initiate contact or conflict with what could be his targets. With the assumed knowledge of Primal's employer, they gladly followed his example, actively avoiding him. And yet, wherever the Saiyan's went, Primal always seemed to be close at hand, watching ominously at a distance, or sitting completely still , analysing them from afar.

"I say we get rid of him," said Makurin savagely. "There're only two reasons for him to be here; either Frieza's finally tracked us down, or much more likely, he's here to destroy life on Haven so that it can be sold on the Trade Organisation. We should kill him before he can do anything."

"_No," _stressed Zeang. "That's _much _too dangerous. For all we know, he's not the only one here. If we destroy him, we'll lose any chance we had of finding any companions. And besides, we have no proof that he's who we think he is. He could be innocent."

Ferris narrowed his eyes as he watched the tournament medics remove the unconscious, heavily injured body of Primal's defeated opponent from the arena. "Zeang. Why hasn't he made a move; if Primal really did recognise Blitzo for who he was, why hasn't he tried to attack?"

Zeang shook his head. "He's biding his time. Before a planet exterminator is sent on a mission, the planet is scanned beforehand to detect how powerful the residents are. He's testing the ground, and by the look of it, is having some fun doing so. This sort of twisted pleasure is common among Frieza's men."

Down in the ring, below the terrace that they were watching from, the announcer shouted into megaphone. "And with another incredible victory, Primal advances to the final eight! What a fighter, ladies and gentlemen; Primal has yet to be hit in any of his matches. Maybe some of our friends in the finals will give him a good match."

Blitzo folded his arms. "And now he's in the finals. This is getting more and more dangerous. If he fights full-on, he won't hold back to not hurt the spectators."

Zeang shook his head. "I know. We have to be very careful from now on. He could strike out at any time."

Makurin flexed his muscles unconsciously. "I'm itching for a good fight. I wish the finals would start already."

"You may just get your wish," answered Ferris, smiling un-humourously. The tall sharp-eyed Havien stood with his arms folded, looking down at the arena where Primal was departing. "The last fight begins now; then, the finals begin."

**000**

"Give them a cheer, folks! They've earned it, wouldn't you say?"

Blitzo couldn't help but relish in the enormous roar that swelled amongst the crowd. All eight finalists were in the main arena, standing in a perfectly straight line. Blitzo smirked as he spotted Arnika, Zeang, and the three Eternal Warriors in the crowd. Arnika just winked at him, clapping a few times, while the others just watched silently. The four of them stood out from the rest of the crowd, stoic surveyors next to a wild cheering mass.

Blitzo was on the edge of the line, at one end. Garbed in a blue training gi, he folded his arms as the group waited for the cheering to abate. A metre to Blitzo's right stood Makurin, and the two rolled their eyes at each other.

Also in the finals was – to Arnika and Rhuna's chagrin – Baldwin Coster, as well as Rhuna herself. So far Coster hadn't recognised the Saiyan woman, despite the complete and utter smackdown she had delivered to him years before. Blitzo supposed that one as self-absorbed as Coster would simply force that out of his brain.

Primal, of course, had made the cut. He stood at the far end of the line, apart from the other finalists, and a sickened itchy feeling crawled up Blitzo's spine; he could feel that Primal was looking at him. Blitzo turned his eye on the alien and scowled, the two meeting eyes for the only time since they'd seen first each other.

Primal's yellow Saiyan armour had been removed, presumably discarded after the general strength levels of the Haviens had been confirmed. The ordinary fighters posed no threat to him; there was no need for protection. Blitzo smirked. The Haviens might not be a worry for Primal, but he and the others definitely should. Every one of the super-warriors possessed greater strength than Primal; if Blitzo had to estimate, he'd put the alien's power level at about 40,000. Without a Scouter is was impossible to get an exact number.

That was one of the few flaws in the assumption that Primal worked for Frieza. The galactic tyrant had powerful underlings, that was certain. But the only soldiers he employed that were anywhere near Primal's level were his right hand men, Dodoria and Zarbon. Them and the Ginyu Force.

Next to the Saiyans in the line stood Ferris and Kenta, both having easily progressed to the final eight. They were both dressed in similar outfits to their companions, garbed in a martial arts gi. Ferris in particular looked most at home in the attire; Blitzo rarely saw him without one. As Blitzo glanced at him, Ferris and Rhuna exchanged a look, smiling at each other.

Bringing the total to eight was an unfamiliar face to Blitzo's eyes. Tall and extremely muscular, he went by the name of Leonardo, and looked impossibly intimidating. Well…he would…To someone like Blitzo, the man was laughably dramatic and about as worrisome as a kitten.

The eight stood in the line together in the middle of the arena: Blitzo, Makurin, Rhuna, Ferris, Kenta, Coster, Leonardo, and Primal. The final competitors.

"What an assembly, folks!" shouted the announcer, as several tournament officials wheeled a whiteboard onto the raised ring. Following up behind them was another official, holding a medium-sized box with a hole cut into the top.

The whiteboard was directed into place before the lines, and the announcer stepped forward.

"Alright, here's how it works. You pick out a number, and you're matched up with a partner. It's as simple as that, so go ahead and choose, competitors!"

Before anyone could make a move, Coster barged forwards and thrust his hand into the box, speaking over his shoulder. "Me first, I'd say. Nothing like a brave winner to start off the proceedings!"

Blitzo noticed Rhuna cracking her knuckles.

Coster withdrew his hand from the box, clenching in his massive fist a small rubber ball. It had the number 5 written on it in black marker pen. Coster held the ball up in the air, showing it to everybody in the crowd.

"Number 5!" he declared, and swaggered back to his position. The crowd gave a cheer, celebrating the old champion's selection. By the whiteboard, one of the officials wrote Coster's name on the white background. The board already had a draw carved into it. Blitzo looked at it; who you fought was based on your number. 1 fought 2, 3 fought 4, and so on.

Primal went next, striding over to the official holding the box without waiting for anyone else. Blitzo narrowed his eyes, and he saw Makurin and Ferris also warily minding the enemy.

"Number 4!" cried the announcer, and Primal stepped back into line, arms folded. Once again, he turned his gaze on Blitzo, who matched the glare with his angry Saiyan eyes. Primal winked, and Blitzo felt a horrible desire to destroy rise up inside him. The Saiyan shook the feeling off in disgust; he hadn't felt it since that furious battle with Denkuma five years before, and it wasn't a desire he relished having. Feeling suddenly drained, he slumped his shoulders. This tournament didn't hold any fun. Despite his initial enthusiasm, the fighting during each round had been dull and uninteresting due to his own strength. Every opponent had fallen like dominos; it was like swatting a large number of geriatric half-dead mosquitos.

And now with Primal in the game, the whole affair had that sense of danger and urgency about it, robbing what little entertainment there remained for him. In fact, he was beginning to wish that it would all end.

"After you," Blitzo heard Ferris say, and Rhuna stepped up to the box, pulling out the number 6. Blitzo had to restrain the urge to laugh out loud, and failed, letting a few chuckles out.

Rhuna would be fighting Baldwin Coster.

Rhuna knew the same thing that Blitzo had realised, and wore a terribly satisfying smile as she walked back to her place. Her posture was suddenly different; as one of his oldest friends, Blitzo recognised it. Rhuna only stood like that when she was trying to suppress great excitement.

Ferris chose the number 7, and after him was Makurin with number 1. Up next came the outsider, Leonardo, who drew the ball with 3 on it. He would be fighting Primal.

"_Poor sod," _thought Blitzo. "_He doesn't stand a hope in Hell."_

Kenta gestured towards the box; the two of them were the only ones remaining to draw their numbers. From the numbers already drawn, Blitzo knew that he could either draw 2, and fight Makurin, or 8, and fight Ferris.

Kenta nodded him on, and Blitzo stepped forward. The official holding the selection box nodded and smiled; he was an old doddery fellow missing his front teeth. Holding his tongue between his teeth, Blitzo reached into the box and felt around inside. The second he touched a rubber ball, he closed his fingers around it and pulled it out, rolling it in his fingers until he spotted the number upon it.

"_Not bad…"_

Turning slowly, he raised the ball and showed it to his opponent. Makurin nodded slowly, and furrowed his eyebrows. The corner of his mouth was tilted slightly upwards.

As Blitzo fell back into place, Kenta shrugged and walked forwards.

"Guess I'm number 8 then," he said brightly, and winked at Ferris. "How about that, eh?"

Ferris looked pleased with the result. "I was hoping this would be the case," he said.

Watching from one of the highest rows in the grandstands, Arnika examined the names written on the whiteboard. "How about that, eh?" she said. "Kenta and Ferris are going to be fighting."

"The teacher vs. the student," remarked Geani, a rare smile on his face. "How fitting."

"Blitzo and Makurin as well," said Arasha, her violet eyes as serious as ever. "They'll be happy about that…"

Arnika made a face. "I don't think so. Blitzo says that he's bored by the whole tournament. He's not that interested anymore."

"What?" Mataro rolled his eyes, the giant man leaning against the low wall behind him. "Coming to this thing was his idea. And you'd think a Saiyan like him would love all this fighting."

Next to him, Zeang laughed. "Saiyans love fighting, that's true…but most find easy wins to be worthless." The bald psychic closed his eyes as he flashed back to the old days. "A Saiyan only finds pleasure in combatting a strong opponent. And as for Makurin, he's as bored as Blitzo is."

Arnika glanced down into the arena. "Damn, Rhuna's lucky. This is the second time she gets to beat the hell out of that Coster jerk."

Mataro folded his arms, looking at the clouds in the sky above. "So the only interesting fight this round is going to be Kenta and Ferris…what a drag. These tournaments aren't as exciting as I remembered."

**000**

Blitzo huffed in disinterest as he listened to the screaming crowd. Opposite him, mirroring his actions was Makurin. The other Saiyan's sharp black eyes blinked slowly.

"We can't fight here," he said over the cheering, and Blitzo nodded in agreement. "But one of us has to defeat the other."

Blitzo knew exactly what Makurin was talking about. Neither of the two particularly wanted to continue in the tournament, but neither would they submit to the other. It simply wasn't in a Saiyan's mindset to give in.

"_He'll fight simply to avoid quitting," _thought Blitzo, and they exchanged looks. The challenge was evident in his opponent's eyes.

"Competitors!" shouted the announcer into his microphone, and the crowd surged, cheering for their finalists. "Let the finals begin! Go!"

Blitzo dropped into his crouching position, awaiting an attack. If they wouldn't give in, combat was inescapable. The crowd watched in apprehension; after Blitzo's initial battle with Mataro, and the ensuing wipeout that both Saiyans had commenced against the ordinary Haviens in the tournament, the audience was expecting quite a rumble.

Makurin shimmered in the air, disappearing, but Blitzo's eyes followed him carefully. With perfect timing, he drew back his arm and pushed forward on his right foot, punching out as he did so.

With a loud smack, his fist met another, colliding between the Saiyans. Makurin reappeared as he stopped moving, and the two stood locked together, struggling to push the other's arm back.

"Heh," smirked Makurin. "This is even more pointless than I thought. We're not going all-out. What a waste of time."

Blitzo grinned back, and broke out of the struggle, flipping around and landing in a handstand, kicking powerfully backwards. His feet caught Makurin under the chin, and the other man's feet left the ground at the impact, blown a few metres away by the blow. As reactant as ever, he caught himself on his hands and flipped the right way up, landing in a crouch, before sweeping his legs around and tripping Blitzo over.

It had almost no effect; Blitzo rolled as he landed, spinning out of the somersault and lashing out with his foot. Makurin backflipped out of the way, and the two faced each other, each in a defensive position, waiting another attack.

"You're right," spoke Blitzo, as if their conversation had never been interrupted. "If we continue, we'll only exhaust ourselves. And with Primal around, tournament or not, we may need that energy."

Makurin was silent for a few seconds, and then straightened to his feel height, abandoning his defensive posture. "You understand, we _will _continue this again."

Blitzo nodded, and the two exchanged a knowing glance. "Of course. I'd be dishonoured if we did not."

And in perfect unison, they turned to the announcer perched on the edge of the ring and said simultaneously; "We forfeit."

The man's jaw dropped in disbelief, unable to belief his eyes.

"What did you just say?" he gaped. "You're both giving in?"

Unfortunately, the microphone was still held to his mouth, and the words were projected around the stadium, for everyone to hear. Slowly, it dawned on them what they'd just heard, making the connection between the words and the fact that the subjects of their interest were no longer fighting.

"They _both _gave in?" exclaimed Mataro, eyes wide.

"Told ya," smirked Arnika.

Geani grimaced angrily, slamming his hand upon the rail in front of the row they were standing in. "Those _idiots! _Don't they realise what they've done!" The man's hard blue eyes were flashing with frustration.

"What is it?" asked Arnika, alarmed.

"By forfeiting, they've completely ruled out the chance of them fighting Primal in the next round. How foolish…don't they know that we have to eliminate the threat as soon as possible? They're endangering the security of the entire planet!"

This fact dawned upon Arnika, and she looked worriedly back into the ring. Blitzo and Makurin were going to cop it when Geani got a hold of them.

By now the crowd had descended into a crazed mob of booing, angrily demanding the match to continue, but the two Saiyans ignored them, walking shoulder to shoulder back to the Barracks.

Arasha grimaced. "Primal fights next. We don't have to wait to imagine the result…"

**000**

As was predictable, Primal completely destroyed Leonardo, defeating him in a single blow. The final-winning backhand shattered Leonardo's nose, sending a spurt of blood through the air as the unconscious Havien flew twenty metres, landing heavily like a ragdoll on the grass outside the ring.

As the crowd commenced their mandatory clapping – with Primal, there was never any cheering – the alien sneered around at the spectators, before striding back to the Barracks much like Blitzo and Mataro had. As he did, the announcer swallowed audibly into his microphone; Primal's malicious intent was obvious even to those who didn't know who he was. He seemed to radiate cruelty, and not holding back in his matches only amplified that.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, what an...um…_impressive _performance from Primal there. Because of the unprecedented double forfeit last round, Primal skips the next round and proceeds directly to the Grand Final! Give him a cheer, folks!"

Rather stunted applause broke out in a few odd places over the stadium, but Primal didn't even seem to notice, ignoring the entire announcement and disappearing into the Barracks.

Among the thousands of completely silent spectators stood Zeang, alone. He'd moved away from the others, gently forcing his way closer to the ringside to more easily watch Primal. It hadn't told him much, only to further emphasise what he already knew.

"_He's dangerous…"_

**000**

Rhuna scowled in pure outrage as an almighty roar swelled among the crowd, the loudest she'd heard since the tournament begun. She didn't even have to turn around to know that Coster had entered the ring.

Rhuna stood at the far end, arms folded, waiting for the match to begin. She could hear Coster's eternal bragging, and longed for the match to begin so that she could finish what she'd started six years ago.

"Yeeaaahhh!" bellowed Coster, raising his arms high above his head, absorbing the attention like a sponge. Rhuna glared at him; she wasn't jealous of the obvious favouritism the crowd was showing – far from it. What she hated was the corruption; Coster had the citizens of Haven twisted around his little finger. Arnika hated the same thing.

And Rhuna was damn well looking forward to showing them what a joke Coster really was.

"Hey, you!" shouted Coster, pointing at the announcer. "Let's start already, what's the hold-up?" The big man glanced at Rhuna, who sniffed in disgust. Coster was bald, but since she'd last seen him, he'd grown a massive moustache and a rough biker beard. The greasy hairs were pitch black. "I feel sorry for you honey, but at least you have the privilege to fight me_._ That can be your consolation prize!_" _He let out a massive guffaw.

Rhuna grimaced, and had to fight the urge to snap his neck right then and there. "Whatever, dirtbag. Let's just fight."

As the announcer started the match, Rhuna felt the sadistic tendencies of her race creeping into her mind. An intense love of violence and superiority governed the Saiyan race, but she forced the inherent traits away.

After all, if she _killed _Coster, she'd be disqualified, and while it would give her great pleasure and would create no guilt whatsoever, she knew that wasn't the right course, no matter her hatred for the man at her mercy now.

Like the Saiyan woman, Coster didn't move to fight immediately either; rather, he started flexing his muscles, showing himself off to the spectators. With Rhuna watching in disgust, this continued for a further minute before he finally turned his attentions to her.

"What's a lady like you doing her anyway?" he asked, mocking her. "I never expected a woman to make it to the final eight. Sure, I guess you've got skills, but next to a man like me, you really have no chance."

"_So not only is he a jerk in general, but he's also sexist_," thought Rhuna, her instincts to simply rip him apart rising. Again, she pushed them aside.

"Just shut up and fight, you cowardly bastard," she sneered, and Coster furrowed his brow.

"What did you say?" he demanded, and Rhuna smirked. Time to drop the bomb.

"You heard me…you know, _Coster, _I have to say that I'm rather surprised you don't remember me…"

Coster took a step towards her, pointing threateningly. "We've never met."

"Oh _really?"_

"Yes!" Coster barked, and jumped in battle, huge muscles finally being put to work. With a massive cry – mirrored by the crowd – he launched a massive punch at the woman in front of him. His meaty fist moved surprisingly fast, and to any normal fighter, it would have been almost impossible to avoid or block.

Rhuna deflected it without a second thought, effortlessly _pushing _the punch out of the way. Coster, expecting resistance, stumbled closer to her, and Rhuna stepped aside. A terrible urge to break him rose inside her once more, and it took enormous effort to push it back down.

Enraged at Rhuna's manoeuvre, Coster spun to face her again, and only grew angrier at her seemingly calm demeanour. He charged forward, aiming another punch, but this was also to no avail; Rhuna _bent backwards, _ducking the blow without losing balance and sending Coster once again stumbling past.

"You don't remember?" asked Rhuna venomously, her hatred showing for the first time as she slowly turned to face Coster. A flicker of doubt crossed his face, but it was quickly cancelled out.

The crowd was noticeably silent, and Rhuna smiled inwardly at the irony; last time she had defeated Coster, the crowd had been completely quiet then as well.

"You don't remember me?" she repeated, but Coster just clenched his fists. Who the hell was this blasted woman? He ran her up and down a few times, but nothing seemed familiar. Ignoring her cryptic comments, he charged again, this time more wary. Instead of one powerful punch, he planned to do several quick jabs. Despite being massive and muscular, Coster had fierce speed in his punches, and had caught quite a few opponents off guard.

But not one of them landed on Rhuna. She shimmied from side to side, ducking and weaving, leaning and stepping; Coster's eyes widened in sheer disbelief at her speed. This woman's reflexes were off the chart.

And then, just as an unfamiliar feeling of fear began to rise within him, Rhuna stopped dodging and point-blank caught his fist. Coster actually gasped – she hadn't even seemed to try, just raising her arm and grabbing his fist mid-punch.

Rhuna smiled wickedly, cruel black pupils dilating in anticipation. Her grip on his fist tightened, and with her free hand reached up and flicked him on the nose, letting go of his hand and the same time.

Coster's head rocketed back, and he took several steps backward. The pain in his nose was tremendous; he hadn't felt such raw force since…since…

Very slowly, Coster looked at Rhuna. A trickle of blood ran out of his nose and over his chin, and a horrible realisation was etched onto every inch of his face. A brutal pleasure was flowing through her veins as she recognised the pure fear in her hated opponent's eyes.

"Y-You…" he whispered. Coster's limbs were visibly shaking as a paralysing fear ran through him, rooting him to the spot. _Now _he knew exactly what she was talking about. That face, the hair…those _eyes – _those infernal sadistic eyes were now all too familiar to him. Suddenly, a flash of pain ran across his forehead and through his jaw, gone as quick as it came.

A memory, he realised.

Rhuna smirked, and as he recognised her, and as that horrible dread filled Coster's mind, the beast within her rose, out of her control for the first time in years.

"Yes…_ME!"_

She screamed the last word, every ounce of hatred and revulsion exploding from within, amplified a hundredfold by the primitive Saiyan instincts. Power and energy exploding from every orifice, she leapt off from one foot. Coster's jaw cracked like an egg as her fist impacted upon it, the kinetic energy transferring at an explosive rate. A shockwave ran through Coster's body, rattling every bone, as he was blown right off his feet, as helpless as an ant caught in a hurricane. The crowd gasped as one; the match was over already. Coster cleared the edge of the arena and began to fall to the grass, still travelling at a frightening speed.

_CRACK!_

"What's she doing?" shouted Geani. Arnika paled as she looked down at the scene. Even after belting Coster and knocking him out of the ring, Rhuna had flown behind him and delivered a full-force kick to his back in mid-air. A sickening crack sounded through the whole arena; even high in the stands, everyone heard it.

Coster screamed as his entire body went limp; he couldn't move a single limb. It was as if everything was paralysed, and Coster knew that his spine had been snapped.

"Oh no…" gasped Zeang, as Coster flopped back into the arena. Rhuna followed, smashing her fist once more into his face and throwing back again. By now he was completely unconscious, but that was the least of his problems.

Rhuna's eyes were dancing with a terrible glee, a beastly flame driven by hatred and the natural Saiyan urge to kill. By now she was completely out of control; she couldn't stop herself. She was possessed.

She raised her hand back for a final blow…

_WHIZCH!_

There was a flicker of movement in front of her eyes, and suddenly she was being held, restrained by powerful arms; the grip was familiar, and she found herself looking into sharp blue eyes, a calming gaze that stared into her black pupils. The wild primitive fire in her eyes slowly faded, and her body shook with ragged shallow breaths.

As medics rushed into the ring, grouping desperately around Coster's limp and broken body, Rhuna felt everything come rushing back; the rational side of her had returned. But if was too late. She looked in fear at the man who held her.

"Ferris…" Rhuna whispered, and fainted.

**000**

Wow, Rhuna went completely overboard there. Pure anger unrestrained, the Saiyan within bursting forth. Luckily Ferris was there to hold her back or she would have killed him.

Sorry again about the wait. I don't know why I didn't write this sooner, it felt amazing to channel Rhuna's control break. It's the first time I've ever gotten such an amazing rush from writing a single scene.

See you all next chapter!

Toodles!


	5. Dart of the Hornet

**Dragon Ball X**

**Guardians of Tranquility**

Hiya there, my dear readers. Well, Christmas has come and gone, I'm afraid. The brilliant year of 2011 has passed, but it should not be forgotten. Many things were accomplished, and many things were lost.

But enough of my crap, let's get to why we're here; the next chapter in Dragon Ball X. Just in case you've forgotten what with all the New Years and stuff (and the fact that I haven't updated for over a month), last time Rhuna went a little too far in her fight with Coster and almost killed him…again. Ferris had to intervene.

Oh yeah, if you like Naruto, be sure to read my fic, "Purpose", a one-shot about Gaara and moving past his hatred for everything. Not to mention my _other _Naruto fic, Nindō: Shinobi Heart.

Now, on with the chapter!

**000**

"Urgh…Ferris…"

Rhuna slowly opened her eyes, exposing her black pupils. For a split second they were cloudy, but then she blinked and the irises were as sharp as ever.

The first thing that occurred to her was that she was lying down, face-up. Above her, a patterned wicker roof hung a few metres above her head. The ceiling of the Barracks. As she focussed, the Saiyan could hear a dull roar a short distance away. The crowd, she realised.

The last thing Rhuna could remember was Ferris' calm blue eyes staring into her own, and his powerful arms holding her from striking further at Baldwin Coster. Despite the entire series of events, Rhuna felt warm inside as she recalled that gaze. Ferris' eyes always seemed to stare straight through her and into her soul.

At least, that's what it felt like.

Rhuna sat up, propping her upper body on her arms. She'd been lowered onto the floor, with a punching bag placed under her head in the place of a pillow.

"Urgh…I can't believe I actually fainted…" she muttered angrily. It had all been too much at the time; the first time that her Saiyan fury had broken since finding her home on this planet. The rage, the thrill, the passion of the attack – it had been too overwhelming after such a long time.

"_I've gotten soft!" _she thought furiously. Beserking wasn't uncommon amongst Saiyans. All of them were conditioned for it; not only the stress on the body (although against an opponent like Coster, physical damage was negligent), but for the immense mental strain it caused. Every sense was overridden by the bloodthirsty instinct to tear and destroy the enemy.

But in this case, it had been too much. After so many years, her mental block on the psychological damage had simply worn away, it seemed. Rhuna snarled, livid at herself for allowing such a lapse.

She blinked, as the sound of the roaring crowd broke into her thoughts. Dimly, she became aware that if her match was over, then Kenta and Ferris would be beginning their bout soon. Or…maybe it was already over.

"How long have I been unconscious?" Rhuna murmured to no one, and looked down at her hands. They still had flecks of blood on the knuckles from where she'd mashed Coster's jaw. It had almost literally exploded with the stuff, but at the time it had only served to drive her on more.

A small shiver ran up her spine, but it wasn't because of the blood. Someone was here; she could sense them.

It wasn't a ki she recognised. This one was new, rough and course like an untamed animal. And it was close. And it wasn't "_within a few miles_" close. It was "_don't turn around, they're right behind you_" close.

Rhuna didn't move – she knew that her own ki levels were higher than this stranger's. Slowly and casually, she twisted her head to look behind her. And there he was; Primal was leaning against the wall five metres away, watching her closely.

It was the closest she'd ever been, and she took the time to eagerly take in the enemy's appearance. He was lacking the yellow battle armour he'd first come clad in, revealing a naked torso underneath. The skin was bluey-grey and mottled, stretching over his considerable chest muscles. Primal's lower half was covered by some sort of toughened skin; it looked like a sheet of rough scales, the colour of a rotted oyster's fleshy innards.

As for his head, it was bald and pale. Now that she was close, Rhuna could see three slits on either side of his face. He had gills, although from their wrinkled and thin appearance, Primal hadn't used them in quite a while. Pitch black eyes stared from lidless sockets.

"You're awake."

His voice was surprisingly soft, a light tone, yet at the same time raspy. Rhuna eyed him warily, and nodded.

"Yes."

"I watched them bring you in here. Your fight was very interesting, if I may say so." He chuckled eerily, and Rhuna's skin crawled. "It's amazing to see a Saiyan in action again. And here I was thinking they were all extinct."

"Yes, well…some of us evaded Frieza," murmured Rhuna, as Primal continued to examine her. His tiny black eyes were extremely shiny.

"I guessed as much."

Rhuna watched the mercenary – for that's what he obviously was, if he really did work for Frieza – carefully as she climbed to her feet. He didn't seem outright hostile at the moment, and she was confident that if he did attack, she could easily defeat him. May as well probe for some answers, she thought.

"Where is Coster?" she asked, and Primal gave a wicked grin. His teeth were like razors.

"Oh, he's over in the infirmary. They've got every expert they have working on him. Meanwhile, you've been disqualified from the tournament for such…_foul_ play."

Rhuna scowled at him, but Primal only leered wider. "Your friends interest me…that tall one in particular. The way he held you, it was like you and him have something rather special. He was ever so gentle when he laid you down, you know. So _touching."_

"Shut it," snarled Rhuna before she could stop herself. Primal cackled to himself. He was enjoying this little conversation.

"He's about to fight the younger one now. They're set to begin in minutes, you know. We shouldn't linger…we'll miss the show."

Rhuna felt a flicker of alarm; this was going to be her only chance to get any sort of info out of Primal. She couldn't let the chat end. "Who are you?" she asked fiercely. "What are you doing here?"

Primal merely shook his head. "To remove the yolk from the egg," he said cryptically.

"An exterminator?"

"Of course."

Rhuna gritted her teeth. So far they'd been almost certain of Primal's motives, but now they were confirmed. She felt a strong desire to simply kill him right here and now, but she couldn't. If Primal had companions, if he was part of a team; thousands of people could die before they could be stopped. She had to find out if he was acting alone…

"Tell me," she began, and paused. Unlike her questions so far, she couldn't outright question his companionship. He would likely lie or somehow otherwise refuse to answer. "Why haven't you began your assault yet? Surely you have a deadline…or people to satisfy…"

Primal just chuckled again. "My objective is simple…destroy all life on Planet Haven. However, I do not have a time-limit. So why not have a little fun while I'm here?"

Rhuna hesitated. By his words, he seemed to be alone on the planet, but she still wasn't certain.

Primal tiled his head and stared into her eyes with his demonic black ones. "But…this tournament. It's so…boring. The competitors are so weak…I'm thinking about just cutting it short and beginning Judgement Day right now…"

Rhuna breathed in sharply.

"…and why not begin by wiping the rest of the Saiyans from existence!"

Like a whip, his right arm lashed out, fingers held straight as arrows. The nails on the ends were filed to points.

"_So die!"_

Rhuna leant rapidly to one side, ducking past the attack, and let out an invisible wave of ki from beneath her feet, flying back a few metres.

"_We're fighting _here?" she thought desperately, glancing around in the Barracks. It was too dangerous; just above them were the stands, where thousands of people sat, unaware.

Primal followed her without hesitation, razor sharp fingers slashing at the air. Rhuna was driven back under a hail of strikes, but it was no impossible feat to block or intercept them; Primal was still well below her level of skill, and although he was fast, his speed was easily outmatched by Rhuna's.

In one deft movement, she grabbed onto Primal's wrist and tugged hard, pulling his entire body forward. At the same time, she sidestepped and hooked her foot around his ankle. Primal began to trip, but caught himself on his hands and flipped back the right way up with a well-executed recovery.

"You're a skilled one, Saiyan," the mercenary spat. "I underestimated you."

"No," said Rhuna, and despite the situation grinned confidently. "I underestimated _you. _You almost hit me on that last one."

Primal growled fiercely and lunged forward again, only for Rhuna to bat his arm out of the way and lunge past him, before pirouetting and delivering a crushing kick to his back.

Primal's razor teeth clenched tightly, lips drawn back as far as they would go as he fell to one knee, shaking. "W-what…agh…how did you…"

He dropped his head, a large mound of spit and blood dripping from the corner of his mouth. Rhuna, her leg still extended from the kick, took three steps back, and dropped her defensive stance.

"I'm not the one to fight you," she said sharply. Primal flickered his gaze to her and she jerked her head in the direction of the arena. "Save it for the ring. You'll need every bit of your energy to stand a ghost of a chance. Now, if you'll excuse me…"

She turned and left without another word, leaving Primal quivering on the floor. He leered after her, still unable to comprehend what had just happened.

"_She picked me apart…" _he thought. "_This planet might be tougher than I thought…"_

**000**

"Come on you worthless sods, give us a real fight!"

"What the hell was the point of paying for _this?"_

The crowd was not happy.

Not. Happy.

Kenta dismissed them, trying as hard as he could to drive their angry yells from his mind. He would need absolute perfect concentration to fight his old trainer, Ferris. And besides, how was it his fault that the three other matches in the finals had lasted a combined time of perhaps three minutes? What with Blitzo and Makurin quitting, Primal defeating Leonardo without a hitch, and then Rhuna's subsequent beatdown on Baldwin Coster, it was no surprise that the audience was a little angry, but they seemed to be directing their anger directly at him and Ferris as they stood at opposite ends of the arena, waiting for the match to start.

"_I'd better give them something worth watching or they might start throwing rotten tomatoes at me," _he thought exasperatedly. "_I _hate _tomatoes…"_

Both he and Ferris had decided after they'd been selected as opponents that they wouldn't restrict themselves by staying on the ground. The safety of the crowd was important, of course, but apart from that they were going all out. No holding back…well, apart from not blowing the audience to hell and back, that was.

No giant energy beams, then.

"Ladies and gentlemen, if you'll please relax and enjoy the show! I'm sure that this next fight will be one worth waiting for!"

The announcer was trying as hard as he could to prevent any sort of tomato-apocalypse as well. Kenta glanced at him; the man was dabbing at his neck with a handkerchief, attempting to stop the endless nervous sweat.

"So, without further ado…BEGIN!"

A loud bell dinged to signal the start of the match, and opposite Kenta, Ferris raised both of his hands, palms open and fingers splayed wide. The match had already been delayed by his refusal to start until he'd personally taken Rhuna to the barracks. Splashed of Coster's blood from his shattered face still stained the floor of the arena.

He called across to his old student, his voice solid and unwavering as always. "Remember…no pulled strikes." Kenta nodded, and Ferris looked at his hands. "Also, I wish for this to remain a challenge. So, I will not use the Kaio-Ken in this fight."

This time, Kenta breathed a hidden sigh of relief. The amplifying effects of Ferris' Kaio-Ken was his greatest weapon. Still, he would be no easy opponent. Not at all. Despite all his training, even under the Eternal Warriors, Kenta had never risen above his teacher in terms of strength and ability.

"Get on with it already!"

"Why are you just standing there?"

The crowd booed loudly, and Ferris's eyes flashed. "Kenta Hale, our battle has begun!"

He bent his legs and fired into the air, moving so fast he was like a blur of colour to even Kenta's lightning fast reflexes. To the watching crowd, he'd be completely invisible. They wouldn't be able to keep up.

Kenta dived into the fray, flying as straight as an arrow into the air, and an identical angle to Ferris. They met in midair, and Kenta put all of his muscle and momentum into a punch directed at Ferris. The other man reacted almost instantaneously, flying just that little bit higher to avoid Kenta's blow, before bringing his leg up and then down again.

Kenta raised his arms and crossed them above his head, catching the kick before it could reach his skull. Nevertheless, the kinetic energy transferred into his body hit him like a train, and he was blown back down to the ground, fifty metres below. Throwing his ki beneath him, he caught his body before it hit the floor of the ring.

Dropping to the tiles that made up the ring, he instinctively ducked, doing the splits to get as low to the ground as possible. Just as well he did, before a second later Ferris fazed into being right next to him, leg already moving into a second kick. It swung above him, cutting the air like a knife. If Kenta hadn't ducked, it would have knocked the wind right out of him.

Unfortunately, he found himself in an awkward position, legs so wide apart from the immediate drop that he couldn't slide them back up again, not with Ferris right there. Instead, he fell behind onto his back, allowing him to bring his legs together again. Then, he planted his palms flat on the ground and _lifted _his body up in a reverse hold so that he was almost upside down, before bending at the knees and delivering a donkey kick directly to Ferris' chin.

Only, the warrior – incredibly – kicked off on his right leg, throwing his body to the side and evading the attack by less than centimetre.

Kenta's eyes widened at Ferris' reflexes. His manoeuvre had been completely unpredictable, and yet Ferris had still managed to avoid it almost instantly.

"_How does he move so fast?" _he thought furiously. "_It's almost ridiculous!"_

From their viewpoint, Zeang and the others watched intensely, the only people in the entire stadium able to completely follow what was going on. Everyone else was just gaping at the blurs, minds sufficiently blown.

"This is really something, isn't it?" muttered Mataro. "Even you and I didn't go at it _this _much, Blitzo."

Blitzo shrugged, arms folded. "We were both holding back, and also we couldn't fly."

"Yes," agreed Zeang, eyes gleaming. "But in addition, Kenta and Ferris have much more motivation to defeat the other. There is no relationship quite like that between a student and a teacher; especially ones like Ferris and Kenta when they've known each other for so many years, and have grown together in strength."

The three Saiyans just grunted. Rhuna had joined them barely a minute before, having returned from the Barracks. She watched Ferris intently.

Below in the arena, Kenta and Ferris had both regained their feet, rushing forward and exchanging rapid blows. The wind around them was howling fiercely from the pressure of their blows. Zeang pointed at them.

"Look, see there. Their speed is phenomenal."

"But who's winning?" asked Arnika, totally absorbed by the action. As he was her brother, she was rooting for Kenta to win, but knew that Ferris had the advantage.

"It's hard to tell," replied Mataro, squinting. Amidst the blur of arms and legs, it was certainly difficult to make out who was sustaining and deflecting damage, and who was dealing it out.

As Arnika glanced at him, she caught sight of Geani's face. The swordsmaster's eyebrows were clenched fiercely, ageless eyes staring down at the match.

"_What's up with him?" _she thought, but her question was answered not a second later.

"Ferris has the upper hand," Geani murmured quietly, and for a split second looked rather disappointed. Kenta had been his student as well, during the period in hiding from Denkuma. Ferris had been dead, and yet he was _still_ winning. "Look at them…

"Kenta is being forced to block at least half of Ferris' strikes. Some of them are getting through and hitting him. On the other end, Ferris is managing to actually _dodge_ most Kenta's punches. He has the greater speed and reflexes, superior to Kenta's by a considerable amount. Unless Kenta employs new tactics, he won't win a direct exchange."

"You're right," said Zeang. It was only now that Geani had explained it that he noticed the pattern. The Eternal Warrior's experience was far greater than his.

"You go, Kenta!" screamed Arnika.

"Beat the snot out of him, Ferris!" yelled Rhuna in retaliation. She was rather more heartless than Arnika was.

Kenta felt his body begin to sweat as it heated up. Being the one fighting, he had recognised his disadvantage far quicker than Geani and Zeang had. Ferris was just too good. He couldn't win in a scuffle like this. He thought quickly; he would have to withdraw and buy himself a few seconds to mount a new assault, but it wouldn't be easy to even do that. Ferris had trained him; he knew the boy like the back of his hand, and could read him like a book.

"_I haven't even landed a single hit on him! I have to do something he's not expecting."_

Knowing full well it wouldn't help much at all, he skipped backwards a few metres, keeping up the lightning fast struggle the entire time. Ferris followed easily, as light on his feet as ever. The same calm blue eyes that had calmed Rhuna earlier were now serving to unnerve him.

And then Kenta did it; he leapt from his left foot. And just as he had planned, Ferris faltered.

The man moved to block an attack, but it came from the wrong direction, and Kenta's booted foot slammed into his cheek. Ferris's short cry lasted but a second as he overbalanced backwards, and was forced to put a foot behind him to stop him from falling. Meanwhile, Kenta lightly backflipped to the side, performing several flips in a row to quickly widen the gap between the two fighters.

"_What?" _exclaimed Arnika, eyes wide. "What just happened?"

"Brilliant thinking, Kenta," murmured Geani, and even the Saiyans looked impressed.

"What did he do?" asked Arnika again, and Zeang explained.

"He tricked Ferris into blocked from his right. You see, Kenta's right-handed, and so uses his right foot to jump with. Every fighter has tells, and when Kenta jumps he always uses the same movement. So when he went to jump, Ferris predicted it based on his stance and went to block; only this time, Kenta jumped from his _left_, going other way. Ferris didn't see it coming and was wide open."

"And now Kenta's got the space he needs to manoeuvre," added Blitzo, impressed. "Not bad, Kenta, old buddy."

"And I've a feeling that he's going to step it up a notch," said Mataro in anticipation. "This'll be good."

Kenta skidded to a halt, ending his frantic backpedal, and instantly dropped into a defensive stance in case Ferris had already recovered. To his relief, the other Havien had also adopted a similar pose, and they watched each other warily.

"Smart move, Kenta," complimented Ferris. "You outwitted me."

Kenta grinned. It wasn't often that he got the better of his teacher.

And then, to Kenta's surprise, Ferris extended a hand, fingers splayed. "Now, let's get serious!"

His palm glowed brightly, and suddenly a bright yellow orb of searing ki fired from his palm towards Kenta, who raised his own hands just in time. Layering his fingers with a protective coating f invisible ki, he caught the ball before it could hit him. The latent energy inside threatened to overwhelm his for a second, but he managed to redirect it, sending the ki ball skyward, where it evaporated into deep space.

Before Ferris could make another move, Kenta extended his own arms and expelled some ki balls of his own, firing off three, one after another. Ferris deflected them all almost lazily. Scowling, Kenta charged his energy and forced it all through his hands, in the form of yet another ball, almost four times the size of the previous ones.

"Now that's more like it!" cried Ferris, bracing himself. The ki sphere zoomed into his hands, and he took a step back and twisted to lessen the force. With a loud grunt, he rocketed into the air, taking the ball with him.

"_What the-?"_

"Take this!" bellowed Ferris, and threw Kenta's own attack straight back at him. Kenta gasped and fired off yet another ball; they collided halfway between the two fighters and detonated on impact, flashing brightly as the energy expended.

Kenta didn't waste a second, flying into the air and reaching Ferris in seconds, lashing out with a punch. It hit Ferris in the stomach, but he used the opportunity to grab Kenta's wrist.

"Don't leave yourself open like that," he grunted, and began to spin around, still holding onto Kenta. The Havien spun with him, helpless, before Ferris twisted and let go, throwing Kenta hard towards the grass at the side of the arena.

"Kenta, watch out!" screamed Arnika. If a fighter touched the grass, they were automatically disqualified.

But she needn't have feared; Kenta released a wave of ki at the ground rushing up to meet him, throwing himself off course and rolling onto the arena, safe from elimination for the time being.

A second later, a barrage of ki blasts struck all around him.

Ferris hadn't relented for a second, sending at least twenty small darts of energy at his student, who vanished under a cloud of smoke and rubble. Several second passed as the smoke rippled, gradually clearing. There was no movement from within the cloud.

A slow silence settled over the stadium as the crowd – most of which were almost dying of sheer awe – waited for the dust to settle.

"Is it…?" whispered Arnika. Had Kenta lost?

"_Burning Current!"_

Ferris gaped as a roaring energy beam erupted from the dust directly below him, a deep red wave. He barely had time to blink before it reached him.

"_Did Kenta create this?" _he thought desperately, and despite his imminent danger felt a twinge of pride for his pupil.

Plenty of time for that later though. Right now he had to defend himself real damn quick. There was no time to counter with a beam of his own; all he could do was try and protect himself. The warrior crossed his arms into an X-shape and held them across his chest. This was going to hurt.

BOOM!

With a colossal sound, Ferris was hit by the beam, disappearing from sight completely as smoke covered the sky. Below, Kenta was standing with his arms to the sky, panting heavily. The attack had taken a lot out of him.

"Did you see that?" gaped Blitzo, astounded. "That was immense!"

Rhuna and Arnika were both leaning over the edge of the railing, swapping between glaring angrily at each other and watching for the obscured sky to clear.

"I can't sense Ferris…" muttered Geani. "It's too erratic down there, it's impossible to tell if that was a winning attack."

And as they watched with baited breath, a blue streaked from within to the ground.

"It's Ferris!" cried Mataro.

Kenta replied in kind, shooting up from the ground, fist extended. They met halfway between the ground and the sky, fists collided with tremendous energy. A shockwave rang through the stadium, blowing everyone back, and Kenta and Ferris bounced off each other, spinning to the ring. They each landed near the edge of opposite sides.

"Look at Ferris!" gasped Zeang. The fighter looked exhausted, clothes singed and hair ruffled wildly. He was hunched over slightly, panting wearily, and blood dripped slowly from the corner of his mouth. Kenta's beam had hit him directly on, and though it hadn't defeated him, he had taken massive damage from the attack.

Of course, Kenta wasn't faring much better. He'd taken a lot of damage from the fighting earlier, and his Burning Current attack had sapped a lot of his energy.

It would be a close match.

They flashed back and forth, slamming into each other again and again, rebounding to the edge of the ring each time. The fifth time they did this, they didn't bounce off, but stayed in the exact centre of the arena, exchanging blows once again.

Kenta ducked to the side to avoid a blow from Ferris, and lashed out in return. Ferris swept his arm around and pushed Kenta's arm to the side, and then somersaulted to the side over Kenta's follow-up kick. Rolling to break his fall, he caught himself on his hands and swung his own legs around, and in his weary state, Kenta felt his legs get swept out from under him.

In that moment, his concentration wand defences were both broken. Ferris slammed the base of his palm into Kenta's chest, and the Havien was blown away, sliding to a halt on the very edge of the ring.

"Kenta…" whispered Arnika tensely, and Zeang drew in breath.

Kenta climibed to his feet was quickly as he could, and spun back to face where Ferris had been…

…only to find himself face to face with his opponent.

Kenta froze; Ferris' arms were extended, held together. His wrists touched, but his hands opened up apart, his palms held flat, fingers curled slightly. The palms were pointing directly at his stomach, only a few inches away.

"Oh," he said.

Ferris' blue eyes were determined, refusing to be bested. He opened his mouth and charged up, a dull roar tearing from his throat.

_"KIAI!"_

A wave of energy surged through Ferris' body, down his arms, and into his palms, before an invisible pulse of ki impacted with Kenta's entire body. It was like the strongest gust of wind he'd ever felt; the Havien was powerless against the pulse, and was blown backwards, out over the edge of the ring.

Kenta felt the wall of the arena impact into his back, the wooden barrier crushing against his body like a twig. He slumped, tangled up in the shattered wood, and let out his held breath. He had touched the outside of the ring. It was over.

Ferris had won.

**000**

Oh my god, I am _exhausted_. This was more taxing to write than I thought, but that might have been because I did it all at once…

Well, how'd you like it. Sorry about the wait between chapters, I've been updating really slow for Dragon Ball X. I'll try and pick up the pace, I promise ;)

Bit of a surprise for Primal at the beginning there; he definitely wasn't expecting Rhuna to be that strong. And man, that fight between Kenta and Ferris took a lot out of me, lol. Oh well, it was worth it to me in the end. What do _you_ think? Tell me in a review ;)

Toodles!


	6. Burning Blade

**Dragon Ball X**

Well, back to school for me. Oh well, I actually find it easier to write when I'm not on holidays, since I don't have that "I'll do it later" attitude when school's in.

So, on with the chapter!

**000**

"It will all be resolved tomorrow."

Geani was as stern and stoic as ever, walking upright without any slouch or droop whatsoever. Likewise, Ferris also showed no sign of self-belittlement.

"Yes," he said quietly. "For better or worse."

"It will be better," reassured Geani calmly. "I have no hesitation when I say that you will strike Primal down, and Haven will be much safer for it."

Ferris shook his head. "That's not what I meant."

It was dark, the sun having died long before. The day was over, but few were asleep, hundreds of unaware citizens roaming the streets and markets. They had no idea of the threat being posed to them, and hopefully never would.

The tall skyscrapers of Grandiose City –the largest and greatest of the five Chief Cities - rose above them, the metropolis seeming to be attempting to dominate over the Haviens below. Most still blinked with a thousand eyes, the lights within the windows blazing out into the dark city. Residents swarmed the pavement, and the humming engines of cars filled the air.

At ground level, on the lowest levels of the buildings, several stores and shops operated, making up the market district. Due to the Martial Arts Tournament, the various merchants were making a bundle, and the open shopfronts glazed the street with artificial light, the heat from hundreds of lamps seeping into the air. The stench of sweat and food hung everywhere.

It was down on of these streets that Geani and Ferris strolled now. The final match of the tournament wouldn't take place until the next day, allowing Ferris and Primal the night to rest and prepare.

Geani grimaced slightly, his thick brows furrowing. "Yes, I see what is worrying you…" He flickered his gaze sideways, but Ferris didn't return the look, keeping his eyes forward. "You must find out everything you are able to. _If _he has comrades, they will almost certainly attack Haven should Primal be killed. If that is the case, you must forfeit."

"I've realised that," answered Ferris guardedly. If not for the magnitude of the situation, he would not accept the terms; the man had never given up a fight in his life, even to the point of dying against Frieza's soldier Cuo in an effort to stop him.

But in this case, he might have to. If Primal was not alone, Ferris could not risk killing him, but neither could he allow himself to be defeated, for Primal would no doubt kill him if he lowered his guard. The only option remaining would be to quit, leaving them both alive.

Of course, if Primal _was _alone, he would be open to a full attack without restraint. The quicker he could be killed the better.

"You don't like that outcome," suggested Geani, smiling emotionlessly. Ferris shook his head.

"No, I don't. Hopefully it won't come to that; Rhuna is almost certain that he is here by himself."

"That may be true, but we cannot blindly believe that it is so," answered Geani, as the pair turned a corner.

Ferris looked up at the dim moon, almost unable to be seen when compared to the thousands points of light coming from the scrapers surrounding them. The enormous digital reading on the side of a nearby building clocked over to 11:00pm. "I know. But I hope to the Kais that it is."

**000**

"_Negotiation is a fine art, and it takes a skilled practitioner to correctly put it into practice. Too far a stretch or to sudden a suggestion could instantly sever the delicate connection formed between two representatives, particularly when one is experienced and the other not. To counter this, negotiation must be taken slowly, with few large steps._

_Be on your guard at all times. A false word or a seemingly innocent comment could offend or outright anger your opposing delegate, especially one of a foreign culture. Tread carefully around an unknown or easily offended nation. It could undo the entire process."_

Arnika licked her finger and turned the page, as the digital clock on the small table beside the king-sized bed beeped. It was 11:00pm. Arnika yawned, and continued reading. Her eyes scanned quickly over the text on the page, absorbing it all in and storing it in her brain. Not a single word was forgotten.

The young woman sunk her head back into the thick pillow, feeling its softness. The hotel – five stars, of course – provided extremely comfortable arrangements, well worth the money that it had cost. She laughed in her head at the idea; the total sum had barely put a fraction of a dent in her wallet.

Arnika yawned again, but didn't halt in her reading. She knew from years of staying up late that sleep came in gradual waves; if she rode it out, she'd be fully awake again in less than fifteen minutes. The relaxing sound of faint running water came from the bathroom to her right, as Blitzo showered. Arnika thought briefly thought about joining him under the steamy water, but rejected the idea; after all, she'd only just showered herself a short while before, and her hair was just beginning to dry. The normally straight brown strands hung straggled around her shoulders, her relatively dry skin protected from the wet hair by a light blue bathrobe.

A few minutes later, the heavily decorated door to the bathroom swung open, and the love of her life stepped out, scratching his armpit. Blitzo's two-layered hair sat flat on his head, still soaked, and his bare chest was glistening with water droplets. A fluffy white towel was wrapped tightly around his waist, shielding his lower body from view. Not that Arnika would have minded.

"Where did you learn to dry yourself?" she asked, taking her eyes from her book to look at him. Blitzo laughed as he skirted around the king bed to his side.

As he veered into the large space between the bed and the wall, Blitzo spun on one foot, slowly and deliberately hammering out with the other, kicking an imaginary opponent in the gut. As his enemy fell to the ground, wincing, Blitzo shifted his weight from leg to leg, holding his fists up as if he was about to start boxing.

Which he then did, punching the air and then ducking behind his arms as his invisible adversary attempted uselessly to fight back.

"You look like an idiot," came Arnika's sarcastic voice, but Blitzo continued in his fight, ducking and weaving around the space next to the bed.

"I wish I was the one fighting Primal tomorrow," he grunted, retreating under a hail of blows before recovering with a powerful uppercut that sent his imaginary enemy flying into the air, jaw broken.

Arnika just turned back to her book, smirking. "Well, it's your own fault. You're the one who forfeited from the tournament…"

Blitzo scowled, both from his own bad decision and from the fact that he was being ganged up on by three new enemies, each as strong as the one he had just defeated.

With two powerful kicks, he annihilated the two swooping in from either side, before finishing the third off with a make-believe ki blast.

"Pow!"

"Idiot…"

Her voice was layered with affection underneath, and she had an embarrassed grin on her face. Blitzo laughed, and went to perform a final high kick, only for the towel around his waist to untie and fall in a heap at his feet.

Arnika gave a mock screech and covered her face with her book, but Blitzo knew she wasn't being serious.

"You can look," he said, shaking his head. "I'm covered anyway."

Arnika's book lowered back down and she saw that he was already wearing the lower half of the skin-tight elastic body suit that Saiyans wore under their battle armour. All three Saiyans had kept the body suits, despite their new lives on Haven.

Blitzo edged his foot under the crumpled towel and flicked it into his hands. As he finished drying off his body, Arnika yawned again, before picking up a bookmark from the bedside table and slipping it into the inside crease of the pages, closing the book around it.

As she placed the book back on the table, she felt the other side of the bed sink as Blitzo lowered himself onto it, sitting with his back to her. His hair was ruffled and messy from where he had attempted to dry it.

"Well, at least I can take some credit for Primal," he said stubbornly. "After all, if I hadn't have had the idea to come to this tournament we never would have found out about him. It's because of me that we get to fight him at all."

Arnika laughed. "The only people I know who are more arrogant than you are Makurin and Rhuna…"

"You forgot yourself."

"Yes, thank you."

They began to laugh together, unrestrained and personal. Blitzo twisted from his position so he could see her, eyes capturing her entire being. With an incredible rush, he watched as her delicate smooth frame lay upon the deep red bedsheets, and in that moment was as in love with her as he had been when she'd first kissed him.

Arnika caught him looking at her, and she smiled. "What are you staring at, idiot eyes?"

"Just at you."

Arnika gave a sort of half-giggle, half-cough, and rolled over onto her side to face him. "You're so sweet for an alien monkey that could tear someone limb from limb…"

Blitzo chuckled. He loved that about Arnika; the richest woman in the world, with an intellect to rival the greatest genii in history, and yet she possessed a sarcastic wit and still acted like a bratty teenager.

"No, I really mean it; I'd never had thought I'd be able to be with someone like you. You're…perfect, and awesome, and…incredible."

Arnika blushed. She'd heard this sort of speech before, but Blitzo always managed to make her feel that little bit more special. He shifted on the bed, and she saw that look in his eye, and she grinned massively.

"NO, no, no, no, no, no, no!" she squealed, rolling over as Blitzo scrambled across the sheets at her. "Get off, get off!"

Her laugh was so carefree and innocent, and she thumped him playfully on the back as the Saiyan scooped her up. The two rolled over a few times, but Blitzo's superior strength won out and he pinned her gently to the bed, their faces centimetres apart.

A loud banging noise sounded through the wall behind the bed, as Kenta's voice sounded through from the next room, extremely muffled. "_Get a room, you two!"_

"We are in a room!" shouted Arnika back.

"_Carry on then."_

Blitzo laughed as he looked into Arnika's eyes, and they didn't even need to speak, simply revelling in each other's embrace. Then, as they got so close that their noses were touching, Blitzo placed his hand on her neck, and kissed her. Arnika melted beneath his body, her eyes closing, and for at least ten seconds they just stayed that way.

Blitzo felt Arnika wrap her arms around his neck as he deepened the kiss, feeling her warm skin beneath him. Her eyes were still closed, lids fluttering slowly, and he felt a rush of passion.

The Saiyan broke out of the kiss, and looked at her face, his thumb brushing along her flushed cheek.

"I've been wanting to do that all day," he said.

"So have I."

They kissed again, but it was only brief before Arnika tapped him on the nose.

"Come on," she said. "Ferris is fighting tomorrow, we can't be up all night."

Blitzo smirked, accepting it. That was one of the things that Arnika loved about _him. _"Am I that repulsive?"

Arnika chuckled softly, and gave him a quick peck. "Of course not."

Blitzo smiled and kissed her one last time before rolling off and climbing under the sheets. With a small flick, Arnika switched off the lights from the switch beside the headboard, and they were cast into darkness. As she relaxed into the bed, she felt Blitzo embrace her from behind, and she rolled back over and rested her head on his still-bare chest, hugging him against her body.

"Good night, beautiful," he murmured, and Arnika felt warm inside.

"Goodnight, you idiot."

**000**

"God, I'm getting all sweaty already," growled Kenta, and to his right, Zeang set his jaw, nodding.

"I am too."

The psychic flickered his eyes across to the other side of the arena, and caught Geani's eye. Geani nodded once, and Zeang nervously checked on the positions of the others for the hundredth time, knowing that Geani was doing the same. They'd decided to split up across the stadium in case Primal made good on his threat to start his slaughter a little early. They had to have all their bases covered.

"Look," said Kenta, elbowing Zeang. He pointed down at a small entrance in one of the corners of the arena, where the announcer was hurrying out of. "I think it's about to start."

Zeang swallowed. "So it begins…how sudden."

With every eye in the crowd on him, the announcer climbed into the ring and stood in the middle, throwing his arm into the air, microphone held to his mouth.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, I will not keep you waiting any longer! Contestants, enter the ring!"

The crowd swelled as one as Ferris stepped from the Barracks, tall and handsome. His sharp blue eyes showed no sign of quailing as he reached the ring and stepped up, and raised an arm.

"Huh?" muttered Zeang, a mask of confusion covering his face. "He's wearing Shinsou's sheath on his back!"

Weapons were forbidden in the tournament, so the sheath was empty, but it still puzzled Zeang. Ferris hadn't worn it for any of his other fights.

A second later, most of the cheers fell as Primal arrived. His mottled grey-blue skin and generally unappealing appearance looked positively monstrous.

Primal smiled wickedly at Ferris, his razor sharp teeth clinking eerily together. Ferris stared him down coldly without fear, and said nothing.

"Let the Grand Final of the World Martial Arts Tournament…BEGIN!"

The announced scuttled backwards as fast as he could, hightailing it out of there. He'd seen – along with everyone else in the audience – the inhavien skills of both Primal and Ferris. To dawdle around when they were about to fight would be suicide.

Ferris waited for him to get a short distance away before shifting into a combat position, hunching at the knees and tucking his elbows into his sides. Primal, however, didn't make a move, just twisting his head to watch the man run away. He cackled softly, and looked at Ferris.

"You…you're with them, aren't you?"

"If you mean the Saiyans, then yes I am," replied Ferris valiantly.

For a split second, Primal's expression changed, his hairless brows twitching. The sun shined from above onto the lumpy skin covering his bald head, causing it to look pale and sickly. A second later, he recovered, that selfish smirk back on his face.

"Then I guess you know all about their traumatic past. Frieza got a little sloppy, it seems he missed a few of those monkeys…"

Ferris snarled angrily, and dashed forward. Primal did the same, both hands at the ready. His deadly sharp nails were at least an inch and a half long, and a corrupted black. The two leapt at each other when they grew close, lashing out and each landing a glancing blow on the other's shoulder before continuing past and landing on the other side.

Ferris crouched as he landed, and instantly spun around to his right, pirouetting on his right foot and bringing his left hurricaning around to strike at Primal directly behind him.

Primal had turned as well, aiming for another punch, but as he saw Ferris' rapidly incoming kick, he relaxed his hand and caught the Havien's leg against the back of his wrist. The impact sent a shock running through his entire body, but he managed to hold it back.

Ferris quickly lowered his foot so that he was standing on both legs, and punched with his right hand, keeping up a constant offence. At the same time, Primal lashed out with his hand as well, fingers held straight with those deadly claws, and Ferris was forced to grab Primal's wrist with his left hand to stop them from splitting his face. Likewise, the mercenary caught his punch, and the two began to grapple.

"When this fight is done, you'll never return to this planet!" grunted Ferris, and Primal laughed painfully. His skin felt clammy and horrible beneath Ferris' fingers.

"I have to s-say..." Primal strained. "You're not bad for a Havien…but I'm still superior." His razor nails grew closer to Ferris' face, only inflating his own confidence.

What Ferris did next took him quite by surprise.

"I think _not!"_

Faster than Primal could react or even register what was happening, Ferris lifted himself into the air, using Primal's arms as makeshift monkey-bars. Flipping his body horizontally, he kicked Primal flat-footed in the face, crushing his nose and breaking Primal's grip on his fist.

As Primal was thrown backward by the kick, Ferris used the kinetic energy from the kick to right himself, backflipping until his body was the right way up and landing in a crouch.

Primal skidded to a stop, his face twisted into a revolting snarl. Blood trickled from his shattered nose, running down his neck and clogging up his wrinkled and unused gills.

"Y-You…how did you…" he grunted, shaking in anger and pain. The manoeuvre had taken him by surprise; he sure hadn't seen that coming…

Ferris just stared with cold sternness. And then, incredibly, he simply vanished, and Primal flinched.

There was a sickening crack as Ferris' foot once again smashed into Primal's face, this time from below the chin. Ferris had appeared under him, holding his body up upside down. As the blow connected, Primal bellowed in pain, head snapping backwards.

Suddenly, he saw a blur fly over his head as Ferris jumped over the top, and a split second later, the Havien grabbed Primal's arms from behind, and placed his foot on the mercenary's back, and began to pull. Primal gasped as his arms were wrenched behind him at an unnatural angle, and felt the muscles tighten painfully.

"_Grgh…Rgahg!" _he grunted.

"Who are you?" thundered Ferris, pulling tighter. He received no response, so tightened his grip on Primal's wrists. His iron grasp cut savagely into Primal's wrist, and the mercenary began to shiver, eyes boggling.

"_Who are you!" _growled Ferris. His voice was a lot quieter, but all the more threatening because of it. Primal inched his head to look at him, teeth bared horribly.

"I'll _kill _you!" he bellowed, and both of his hands snapped open, the palms glowing ominously. Ferris blanched, but before even he could react, identical balls of light fired from Primal's hands and hit him in the stomach.

"Ferris!" shouted Kenta, as the entire crowd let out a groan. Pretty much every one of them was rooting for Ferris by this point. From where she stood, Rhuna instinctively began to prepare to fly in, but stopped herself just in time.

Ferris cartwheeled wildly backwards, landing heavily on the ground and sliding a good five metres. His normally calm blue eyes were wide open in shock at the sudden attack.

Primal was hunched over, with his back to him, rubbing his shoulder blades and armpits, before turning around and glaring at Ferris, who climbed to his feet, now fully on his guard.

"And once you're dead, I'll kill _everyone!" _Primal hissed. His dead black eyes were suddenly alive, and a string of spittle was hanging from the corner of his mouth. A dark purple-black aura was beginning to leak from him, tainting the air.

To sum it up in a sentence, he looked quite frightening.

"You'll never kill another soul as long as you live," declared Ferris, and he took a step forward, challenging Primal. "So let's settle this together, one on one."

Primal cackled wildly. "You want to fight _me?_ I could destroy you in an instant if I wanted to. You've seen nothing of me yet! You or that filthy wench! She thought she'd gotten the better of me when she smashed my back, but that was a lucky shot! I'll _kill _that filthy Saiyan whore, along with every living thing on this godforsaken planet!"

Ferris eyes flashed once. "What did you say?"

Primal's fangs looked like they were growing, and his scale-like skin was beginning to grow tight on his body. "I said…_I'll kill you all!"_

Primal raised both arms, pointing directly at Ferris. Without a second's hesitation, he let loose, firing a colossal yellow energy beam directly at his enemy. The ki singed the air as it came, covering the distance in less than two seconds.

BOOM!

Kenta's eyes widened as Ferris _slammed _his fist into the oncoming beam, halting it in its tracks. Even so, the sheer force behind it actually forced his arm back, and for a few seconds he struggled to keep the attack under control.

"DIE!" screamed Primal.

Sparks fired off the beam and hit the ground, sending chunks of the tiles whipping up, each accompanied by a terrifying crack. People in the crowd began to scream, but the danger was finally averted as Ferris' arm split the beam, dissipating most of the energy and sending the remainder roaring back to Primal. As the invader staggered, Ferris fired towards him.

"Leave here now!" he thundered, and sunk his fist directly into Primal's stomach. Primal wretched violently, folding in half under the punch. Drool sagged from his mouth and splashed onto the ground, which began to sizzle, the spit eating it away.

"G-gah-y-you-I-h-ha-hate-you!" grunted Primal, as Ferris removed his arm from the mercenary's stomach region. Primal stumbled backwards, and fell painfully to one knee.

"Leave here now," said Ferris again. "That is your last warning, I can assure you."

Primal's mouth was swimming with blood, the reddish liquid replacing the drool there. Shaking violently, he forced himself to his feet, panting heavily and glaring at Ferris.

"N-No…" he spat. "I won't be defeated by scum like you…I've dealt with your sort before! I'll hit you where it hurts hardest!"

With purple ki swelling around his body, Primal exploded into the air, flying twenty metres into the air and extending both arms out to either side.

"Stop him!" yelled Zeang, but it was too late. Primal's hands glowed bright yellow, and two enormous balls of ki fired from each, scorching directly for the crowd on either side.

People screamed as the attacks fired their way, but there were too many of them to run away, the mob forming into a crushing throng unable to move for the hundreds of others around it. And as they realised their fate, they turned as one to the ki balls heading for them.

_SWIZCH!_

_SWIZCH!_

With identical movements, two blurs came out of nowhere in the second left before destruction, flying into the path of the balls.

Arasha and Makurin.

Yelling fiercely, Makurin knocked the orb out of its trajectory with a well-aimed punch, while on the other side of the stadium, Arasha kicked the second ball. They flew high above the stadium and collided, detonating together in a tremendous explosion that sucked the sound and colour from the air.

Primal roared angrily as he saw two of his enemies protecting the crowd. Whipping his arms up again, he fired at the other two sides of the rectangular stadium. The orbs were travelling too fast for Makurin or Arasha to deflect them again.

But once again, they were blocked, Blitzo taking care of one while Mataro took out the other. Primal glared around like a trapped rat as Rhuna and Geani joined the others in the air, and he saw that he was surrounded.

"_This…it can't be happening!" _he thought furiously. "_How are these people here?"_

Hearing a faint whistle below him, Primal looked down just in time to see Ferris himself streaking into the sky, fist held back and a roar tearing from his throat. The Havien's closed hand smashed across Primal's cheek, snapping the invader's head back. Primal rolled in the air, strings of blood flying from his mouth.

He screamed angrily, and began to expel ki from all over his body, charging up as much power as he could. Shaking with rage, he glared at Ferris, who hovered a short distance away.

"_YOU SCUM!" _he roared.

Ferris flickered his gaze at the crowd. Most of them were flocking for the exits, trying to get the hell out of there, but it would still take several minutes for them to completely disperse.

Too long.

"You have to realise by now," he shouted across the Primal. "We're too strong for you. Where's _your _backup, Primal? Because mine is right here!"

The mercenary didn't answer, and Ferris felt an enormous rush of satisfaction…

Primal was here alone.

Without a second's hesitation, Ferris rocketed forwards and slugged him across the face. Primal's face literally exploded with blood, and he was knocked backwards like a rag-doll, but didn't fall. Amazingly, he twisted his head to look at Ferris, a demonic glare on his face.

"I'm afraid you'll have to do better than that," he growled. "A few punches aren't going to stop me_."_

"_Then how about a kick!"_ roared Ferris, and in the blink of an eye was behind Primal, and his foot blistered into the back of the alien's bald grey head. And then, just as quickly, he grabbed onto Primal's leg, crushing it in his grip. As Primal's eyes boggled from the blow to the head, Ferris began to swing him around, picking up speed until Primal was a blur.

"Let's get in there," said Kenta, but Zeang shook his head.

"Technically, this is still the Grand Final of the Martial Arts Tournament. It's Ferris' fight, not ours."

As Kenta frowned, Zeang shot him an amused smile. "Besides, don't you think that he can handle it on his own?"

"Well, yes…"

High above, Ferris let go of Primal, sending the mercenary torpedoing towards the ring. With an enormous crash, he collided with the ground, driving into a crater and disappearing from sight under a large pile of rubble. Meanwhile, Ferris lightly flipped in the air and somersaulted gracefully to his feet, twenty feet from the broken Primal.

"He did it," sighed Kenta. "It's all over."

Zeang leaned back, wiping his massive forehead. A few seconds passed in silence as they revelled in their victory, and the remaining spectators gaped down at the victor, Ferris.

But that feeling would not go away.

Zeang's black eyes flared suddenly as he felt it, and turned his incredulous face to where Primal had last smashed into the ground. His mouth was twitching. Kenta felt it too, and standing tall in ring, so did Ferris. His hard gaze flickered back to the debris-filled crater, as the shattered tiles shifted and Primal staggered back to his feet.

His right leg was shot, bent at an unnatural angle, and what looked like a shard of bone protruded from it, blood seeping from the puncture wound and down his leg to collect in a small pool at his feet. He could barely stay upright, arms hanging almost lifelessly. Primal panted heavily, one of his eyes blinded and torn; the other was filled with murderous hate, staring lividly at Ferris.

"He just doesn't give in!" muttered Kenta. "Is he actually incapable of just keeling over and dying?"

Primal wretched suddenly, and vomited a ball of blood onto the shattered ring. He almost looked pathetic, but there was so much rage and hatred in his one remaining eye that he actually looked more nightmarish than anything else.

"Give in," commanded Ferris. "You can't fight anymore. Leave here _now."_

"I'd r-rather _die!" _wheezed Primal, his pointed teeth quivering. "I'll make sure that this planet bows beneath Horus, even I don't survive to see it so!"

"What…?" breathed Zeang, his eyes slowly widening. "H-Horus?"

"You _won't _survive to see it so," snapped Ferris, as he took a step forward. But then, just as quickly, Primal suddenly seemed to rejuvenate, his previously dead arm plunging _into _the rough layers of skin around his lower body, the flesh absorbing his hand.

And from within, he pulled out a small handheld device. A small red eyepiece was attached, and Primal rushed to attach it to his face.

Instantly, Zeang froze.

"_A Scouter?" _he thought. "_But…we already know that he doesn't have anyone else on Haven with him, and he's definitely not going to measure anyone's Power Level…What's he doing?"_

And then, like a bolt of lightning, it hit him, accompanied by a paralysing rush of pure fear.

"FERRIS, KILL HIM NOW!" Zeang screamed.

Everything felt like it was happening in slow motion, as Ferris turned to look. Not at Zeang, but at who was standing next to him.

"Kenta!" he shouted, and his old student nodded. As Zeang flicked over to look at him, Kenta reached down the back of his gi and drew a shimmering red blade. Shinsou flashed blindingly as the sun reflected off its glittering length, and Kenta raised the sword over his shoulder and threw it.

As Shinsou spun high above the ring, Primal pressed a button on the side of the Scouter and opened his mouth. At the exact same time, Ferris hunched over, summoning the power he carried inside. He had to end this now.

"_Kaio-Ken_!"

Those spectators still hustling for the exits stopped as one as Ferris' ki turned a deep red, and then it was all over. A great wind blew over the arena, and in the time it took to blink, Ferris had vanished and reappeared behind Primal.

Shinsou was clutched tightly in both hands, snatched out of the air, and Ferris had slashed it vertically down. He held it now, stopping the tip of the blade from touching the ground as he crouched, arms outstretched, sword held straight.

As for Primal, he looked exactly as he had only a second before, finger still pressed up against the small button on the side of the Scouter. His mouth hung open, halfway through speaking, but no sound emerged from his mouth. Only his one eye told the true story; the beady black orb was full of shock.

And then, all emotion and light drained slowly from the sphere, and Primal died. Ferris straightened to his full height, swinging his sword in a large arc before sliding it into the empty sheath strapped to his back.

All was still.

It was quiet at first, but slowly, a great sound rose through the stadium, as the thousands of members of the crowd that hadn't vacated yet began to cheer, a vast roar echoing across the arena. The terrifying being that they called Primal had been stopped by the one named Ferris. He would threaten them no more.

For the first time since he had first discovered about Primal, Ferris relaxed, a small smile appearing on his hard face. He turned and walked out of the ring, strolling to the Barracks.

And Primal's lifeless body, still standing motionless in the ring, slid apart, sliced vertically in half by Ferris' killing stroke. The two parts of him toppled to the ground, and just like that, the World Martial Arts Tournament came to a close.

**000**

Ding-dong, the Primal's dead! Which old Primal? The Wicked Primal!

Taa-daa. Hope the final fight was ok. I'm just glad to get it done. It turned out the way I originally envisioned, so I'm happy, but I hope it makes sense. But…there still remain unanswered questions. For example…who was Primal really working for?

I'll leave you to ponder that. Stay tuned for the next chapter of Dragon Ball X. Or not, if you don't want to. It's up to you, really.

Toodles!

**000**

**Geani: **Wait, wait, hold up now! How come Zeang got to be the one calling the shots? I'm way more experienced!

**Zeang: **Because I know more about alien races, that's why! Also, you were zipping around in the air with the others; you can't be calling orders down at Ferris.

**Arnika: **Where the hell was I in that fight? Was I even watching?

**Zeang: **Don't have a clue.

**Animaster21: **Ah, hehe…sorry about that. To be honest I don't know where you were either…my bad.

**Geani, Zeang, and Arnika: **_*_Shakes fists angrily_*_


	7. Alien Autopsy

**Dragon Ball X**

**Guardians of Tranquility**

Gah! It's been like…forever! First of all, just let me apologise for the long wait, I haven't really been myself lately, motivation lost and all that. But don't worry, it's back in full force now.

This has been half-finished for weeks now, I just haven't gotten the motivation to finish it until now. But don't worry, all done!

On with the chapter!

**000**

The aftermath of the fight was somewhat misshapen and unorganised. Thousands of people told wildly varying tales of what had taken place in the match, and the truth became extremely untrue in a matter of minutes. Even the people who had witnessed it firsthand were already unsure of what they'd actually seen, and what of it was fiction.

The television companies were in an uproar at the taboo that had been instantly placed over the incident. A quick call from Arnika to one of her high-up friends in the industry had ensured that; it had been strictly prohibited to display any footage whatsoever of what had happened. Of course, for those involved, it wasn't quite as easy as that.

The pair of sliding doors did what they did best, sliding open and letting the visitors in. As Arnika stepped over the threshold, she shivered slightly. Hospitals always gave her a feeling of death. The complete lack of background noise apart from rattling trolleys carrying mortally wounded or deathly sick people was just eerie.

Not to mention the sound of clicking pens and clipboards. Eerie.

A few heads turned as they walked in. A smart and beautiful young woman, walking next to a muscular dude with funny hair and a slightly younger looking dude with normal hair, followed by a second woman with mildly odd hair, and a third dude with absolutely no hair but a huge head wasn't the most common sight in the world. But then again, this was a hospital. Strange maladies and what-not. The spectators turned back to their newspapers.

"I hate hospitals," muttered Kenta, looking around nervously. "They're so creepy. Why do we need to do this, anyway? Primal's dead, he's not causing any harm."

Arnika gritted her teeth. "Becaaaaaauuuuse," she replied, "even though he's dead, he's still a bloody pain in the arse. Just think; what happens when they examine Primal's body and find out that he's definitely not normal?"

"I would have thought that that'd be obvious just by looking at him normally…" said Blitzo under his breath.

"They're gonna find out that he's an alien, aren't they?" strained Arnika quietly, as they caught the gaze of a curious-looking guy. She gave him the finger and he looked offended, turning away. "And that's not good at all, because then there's going to be a huge investigation and they'll turn to Ferris for answers because they fought together."

"Good point."

Rhuna and Zeang looked at each other and rolled their eyes.

Arnika stopped at the front reception desk and looked at the woman behind the desk. She looked grumpy, probably because of the waves of injured fighters from the Martial Arts Tournament. It wouldn't be easy around this time of year.

"How can I help you?" she asked in a tone that implied she would not only not _want _to help them, but wanted to shove a frozen sardine up each of their nostrils.

"Yes," answered Arnika sweetly, leaning casually against the desk. "I was wondering if you could let me in to see one of the doctors. Do you know Sonny Billany? If you don't, you should get to know him, he's a nice guy. Anyway, I need to speak to him."

The receptionist glared dully at her. "What about?"

"That's kinda private."

"All of the doctors are busy," said the woman, smirking, and leaned back in her chair. "I don't want to bother them for something like this."

"You sure?"

"Yes."

"Sure that you're sure?"

"Yes."

"Positive?"

"Yep."

"Positive that you're positive?"

"You're annoying me."

Arnika scowled, and leaned over the desk. "Look, it's really important, as in life or death. Please, call up Sonny and tell him that I'm down here."

Blitzo cracked his knuckles quietly as he watched Arnika and the receptionist debate. Rhuna whispered in his ear. "I swear, if she doesn't do what we say, I'm gonna smack her ugly blonde bitch face clean off her skull."

He chuckled.

As the receptionist denied her once again, Arnika fumed silently, before reaching into her purse and pulling out a chequebook. "Fine," she hissed. "Do you take bribes?"

"Maaaaaaaaybe."

Arnika scowled, scrawling down a series of zeroes on a cheque and passing it over the desk, flinching in mock horror as the woman took it. Suddenly, there was a soft *ding* to their right, and everybody looked over to see a small group of people exit a nearby glass elevator.

Instantly, Arnika reached back over the desk and snatched the cheque from the receptionist's grubby fingers just before she could stash it beneath the desk, and tore it in half.

"Never mind," she smirked. "There he is."

The receptionist's eyes scrunched up as her newfound money exploded in her face, as #1 on Arnika's Most Wanted list strode up alongside the desk, talking briskly to the doctor next to him. The other man nodded and hurried away, as the furious receptionist passed the first doctor a folder, still glaring with pure hatred at Arnika.

"Thanks, Kearly," the doctor said, flicking through it, and then froze, a bland expression on his face. Slowly, he turned his gaze to see Arnika smiling innocently at him, with Blitzo, Kenta, Rhuna, and Zeang close behind.

"Let me guess," he groaned. "The freakish shark-alien that's been cut in half that I have waiting upstairs in the morgue has _something _to do with you."

"Got it in one," winked Arnika, and Sonny smiled exasperatedly. Arnika's best friend growing up, he was a rare rival in intellect for her, as well as one of the few Haviens on the planet to know the truth about the Saiyans. Dressed as smart as you could look in a white lab coat, he was one of the most handsome people Arnika had ever seen, with neat, jet black hair and a straight nose, complete with two intense hazel eyes which were currently twinkling with amusement.

"Well, come on then," he said, leading the way to the glass elevator. "So, _gang_, where's Ferris?"

**000**

Ferris was bored, and not a bit comfortable.

The Grand Champion of the tournament sat alone behind an enormously round table, eight seats arranged equally around it. He watched silently as a guy who looked kind of like a waiter appeared, holding a bottle of wine. The man inclined his head questioningly and held up the bottle, but Ferris shook his head.

"No thanks," he muttered. "I'm not really much of a wine guy."

"Would you like something else instead? A vodka, perhaps, or maybe a glass of gin?"

Ferris shifted his position on his seat, and a bead of sweat ran down the back of his neck. "Oh…that's not what I meant. I'm not really a drinker at all. Just some water will do me, thanks."

"Thanks you, sir," said the waiter stiffly, as if Ferris' refusal to get drunk had greatly offended him, and he vanished through the door he had come from, leaving Ferris on his own once more. The warrior shuffled around again, and cleared his throat even though there was no one else there to talk to.

The table was located in a large VIP room overlooking the arena where Ferris had just defeated Primal. It wasn't quite the impressive sight it was meant to be; most of the arena was completely destroyed or broken in some way, and large chunks were still lying around, both in the ring and half-buried in the field of grass around it. There was still a great deal of people in the stadium, still clamouring to find out the true story behind it all. Geani, Mataro, and Arasha were all amongst them, helping exaggerate and spread rumours. The more twisted and over the top the story got the better.

Ferris coughed, and rubbed his stomach where Primal had launched two ki balls into it. The area was slightly burnt, and his gi had been singed away around the wound, but Ferris had refused any medical attention, purely because he hated anyone but Rhuna poking around his bare stomach.

"_I'll _kill _that filthy Saiyan whore, along with everything on this godforsaken planet!"_

Primal's words rang faintly in his head, and Ferris felt glad that the monster was dead, and even gladder because he was the one who had done the deed. No one insulted Rhuna in such a revolting way, not while he was there to hear it. He clenched his fists, but then closed his eyes and sighed in relief. For the time being, at least, Haven was safe again. Just like it should be.

There was a small click behind him, and he looked around, expecting to see the waiter returning with his water, but instead laid eyes on Makurin. The dark-eyed Saiyan smirked as he saw Ferris sitting at the table, all alone.

"Well," he grunted. "We're all here, let's eat!"

Ferris raised an eyebrow as Makurin slumped casually into the seat two away from him, feet propped up on the table as he placed his arms behind his head. The Saiyan glanced at him and shrugged. "What?"

"Where have you been this whole time?" asked Ferris, eyebrow still forking up into the air. Makurin folded his arms and averted his gaze.

"Nowhere," he said defensively. "Just…talking…with someone I know."

"And who would that be?"

"None of your business," snapped Makurin, and then said, "Arasha."

Ferris looked suspicious. "If it's only Arasha, then why are you so snarky about it?"

"None of your business," repeated Makurin, turning slightly red about the ears. Ferris shrugged, and unsheathed Shinsou, examining the blade quietly. Unbreakable – courtesy of Azulong, the Eternal Dragon – its crimson red blade was unmarked by his attack on Primal, not even a speck of blood on its razor sharp steel. As he replaced it in its sheath, Makurin groaned.

"God I'm hungry. When is this "feast" gonna start anyway?"

Apparently, it was tradition after the tournament ends to hold a feast for the eight finalists to attend together, but with Rhuna, Kenta and Blitzo vanishing off to the hospital, Leonardo and Baldwin Coster in intensive care, and Primal dead, the only two even able to attend at all were the two men currently attending.

Ferris smiled. The ravenous appetite of the Saiyans was exhausting to watch, but he had quite the liking for it. He didn't think he'd ever be able to get used to it, though. Watching one person devour enough food for ten and then still be hungry kind of screws with your head. "Hopefully soon. I'm feeling a little peckish myself…"

Silence fell between them, but a comfortable one. Makurin stared at the table with a fierce look on his face, as if he wanted the polished wood to burst into flame. Meanwhile, Ferris continued gazing out of the wall that was also a window (or maybe it was a window that was also a wall) at the stadium, where people flocked in the hundreds. As the clock above the door ticked slowly away, he changed targets, first watching a plump woman in a yellow dress who waved her arms about a lot, before switching to a little girl hanging off her grandfather's arm, swinging above the ground laughing while the man talked to a young guy with sunglasses.

Ferris enjoyed watching people like this. They made him think. He liked to imagine what the people were like; what their personalities were, who their family was, what they had fun doing…

There was a large sigh from Makurin. "God I'm bored."

Ferris frowned as his daydreaming was interrupted by his impatient Saiyan friend. Before he could say something, there was a light tapping on the door and the waiter returned his Ferris' water. He accepted it with a nod and a murmured thanks, and then left it sitting on the table without touching it. The only reason he had ordered the drink was because he had felt obligated to.

"Well," said Makurin, and reached over, taking the glass. "If you're not gonna drink, someone ought to…" The Saiyan tipped back his head and downed the water in a single swallow, before slamming the glass down on the table, shattering it. "Whoops."

Ferris chuckled quietly. "I suppose that's the greatest disadvantage of being super strong," he suggested, and Makurin rolled his eyes.

"You can say that again. Well, that and fighting off all the bloody alien invaders…"

**000**

_Ding!_

A pleasant jingling sound echoed through the dead hallways of the hospital, attempting to bring cheer to the place. Well, it also signalled that the elevator had arrived, but that's beside the point.

The steel doors slid open and Arnika and the others followed Sonny as he disembarked, mirroring his footsteps as he turned right and strolled confidently down the hallway. There were no patients up here – it was the top floor, where the morgue was located, as well as where autopsies took place.

"That serious?" questioned Sonny, raising an eyebrow. "Well, all I can say is that it's a good thing we have you guys around to stop things like this from happening, am I right?"

"You're right," said Blitzo, smiling grimly. On the elevator ride up here, they'd given the doctor a quick rundown on the events of the tournament. "So, can you help us out? Have enough leverage?"

Sonny laughed arrogantly. "Of course. The other staff revere me. It might be _slightly _difficult to explain a missing body, especially one of such high profile, but I'm pretty sure I'll be able to get away with it. It _is _half-shark, after all. Nobody wants to have that around. Also, he smells."

"Great," said Arnika quickly. "Let's get him the hell out of here then."

"Agreed," nodded Sonny as they turned a corner. He looked back over his shoulder, to where Kenta walked beside Rhuna and Zeang. "By the way, my sister told me that she had a real fun time on Saturday night."

Kenta stopped dead in his tracks, his cheeks turning bright red and eyes wide. But it was too late.

"_WHaAaAaAaAaAaAaAT?" _squealed Arnika, and in a flash she was in his face, grin as wide as can be. "_You're _going out with Rachel?"

Kenta grinned dopily and scratched the back of his head. "Yeah, I guess I am…pretty neat, huh?"

Arnika clasped her arms and spun on the spot, looking as if she was about to fly out of her shoes and rocket to the moon. "Ah, that's so _sweet, _you two are perfect together! Do I hear wedding bells?"

"No!" snapped Kenta, but Sonny spun on his heel and winked at him.

"A _very _fun time, if you know what I mean…"

Kenta's face turned a hundred shades more red and he hiccupped, as Arnika popped right out of her skin and Blitzo and Rhuna exploded with laughter.

"This is so embarrassing…" he groaned, and Sonny smiled guiltily at him.

"Sorry, was I not meant to say that? My bad."

"Can we just hitch Primal and get out of here before I literally sink into the floor?"

Blitzo crawled back to his feet and clapped him on the shoulder, still struggling to contain his convulsions. "Don't worry about it, mate!" he assured. "Let's do this already!"

Arnika's eyes were sparkling as they continued. "I can't wait to talk to Rachel about this!" she giggled. "I had no idea that you two liked each other in that way!"

Blitzo looked at her. "How come you never got this excited when _we _were getting married?"

**000**

The morgue was chilled like ice, the grey of the steel ceiling and floor robbing the room of any warmth. Not to mention the idea of so many dead bodies. Creepy…

The room was large and empty, the walls made up of a grid of small doors, each revealing a sealed compartment containing the dead. Apart from that, the room was almost completely bare, except for three tables of steel arranged in the middle. The two closest to the door were empty, but the slab at the far end of the room was home to a motionless lump hidden under a sheet.

As they stepped over the threshold, a silence feel over them all. Only Sonny was comfortable among the grim dead. He strode through the large room like he owned the place, to where the sheet hung over the edges. He grasped it and whipped the cloth off, revealing the revolting corpse underneath.

"Primal," said Sonny, stepping back. "He's all yours, if you're really willing to take him. Please do, though, nobody wants to do an autopsy on _that_."

Primal's mottled grey skin had turned a sickly white in death, his beady black eyes looking like those of a lifeless doll. One of them had been blinded during the battle; it had a jagged line running across the glasslike surface. His mouth was twisted into a snarl, showing off his teeth. And, of course, he was in two halves, having been cut in half by Ferris' final attack. The mercenary had pale red blood that looked watery and thin; it stained the open sides of the each half. His insides were visible, a mass of intestines and other organs.

Primal had been frightening in life. Here, robbed of his threatening power, he just looked pathetic. A revolting stench leaked from his body, and Arnika had to cover her mouth and nose to stop herself from vomiting. Kenta looked pale.

Zeang stepped forward, and reached down to the body, to where a red eyepiece was attached to his face. He detached the Scouter and looked at it with an expression that Arnika had never seen before. A sort of painful sadness and hatred. It looked strange on Zeang's normally peaceful features.

"We have the body," he said quietly. "And we have the Scouter. Now all that remains is to find out where our future lies. Free…or crushed."

**000**

The sun fell and sunk beneath the horizon, and Grandiose City fell asleep. The rush of the day was over, the hype of the tournament dying down. Most people had already discarded the rumours as just that: rumours. The other, more hopeful people had given up for the day, acquiescing to sleep at last.

However, in one location in the city, twelve people were not sleeping. Rather, they gathered together in a room, waiting to share with each other the knowledge of what was to come.

The meeting was in Arnika's laboratory. At the front stood Arnika herself, next to Zeang. In front of them, the three Saiyans sat around a table, accompanied by Kenta and Ferris. At the back of the room, Geani stood with Mataro and Arasha, in their usual line.

Also present was Don Hale, Arnika and Kenta's father. He was smaller than both his children, an intellectual with absolutely no combat experience. A pair of rounded spectacles sat upon his nose, and he had faded brown hair. Don stood near the front of the room, his hands clasped behind his back. Normally immensely cheerful, tonight he was looking rather worn down and worried.

And finally, bringing the total up to twelve was Doctor Sonny Billany. Arnika had invited him along to help discuss the matter with them; his sharp thinking and well of knowledge could prove to be useful. Also, he'd point blank refused to be left behind, demanding to continue on.

"_If the world is in danger," _he'd said firmly, "_then I'm not gonna sit on my ass waiting for the end."_

"Alright," said Zeang, and stepped forward. "Arnika and I have finished analysing the Scouter's data, with help from Don, of course."

"My pleasure," piped up Don.

"What about Primal?" asked Kenta.

"Primal's body has been destroyed," said Geani, stepping forward. "I did it myself."

"So that problem is solved," said Zeang. "But another one has forced itself forward. And it is a whole lot worse."

He picked up the Scouter from where it sat at the front of the room and deposited it in front of them on the table. All eyes were drawn to it, the small red eyepiece revealing nothing. Zeang paused, and then finished his revelation.

"Primal was never working for Frieza. He's a minion of Horus."

The name was lost on Kenta, and as he looked around, he saw that everybody else was likewise confused.

And then he noticed the Saiyans.

Blitzo's jaw was clenched tight, his eyes bolted open and staring wide at Zeang, a look of pure shock on his face. Makurin's mouth was open slightly, and he stared blankly at the wall opposite him. Rhuna's normally cocky black eyes were shaking in their sockets. All three had turned as white as sheets.

And as he recognised that instinctive fear…that _Primal _fear in them…Kenta realised that things had just gotten very bad.

**000**

I know, I know, shorter than normal chapter. It was meant to have a lot more at the end, but as I was writing that last scene I felt it would be more suspenseful to end it the way I did. Bit of a mood whiplash halfway through there. EDIT: I didn't notice this until I'd uploaded, but it's like the chapter's been broken into a few small scenes, hasn't it? It makes it seem really disconnected, sorry about that :/

So, how's the tension? By the sounds of it, this Horus guy is bad news. He can't be worse than Frieza though…can he?

Sorry about the wait, once again. I have an announcement next chapter, so stay tuned!


	8. He Who Is Fear

**Dragon Ball X**

**Guardians of Tranquility**

Hi there.

Ok, as I mentioned last chapter, it's announcement time. It's not too big, but meh, I'm still calling it an announcement. Anyways, here it is. I've been putting the final touches on the part 1 of 4 of the first Dragon Ball X Movie/OVA, _Kingdom Crushed _(And yes, I'm aware that OVA stands for Original Video Animation and that it is by no means a video _or _animated, but it is original, so there…). I've actually been really slack lately, as you might have noticed, but this OVA has been taking up a lot of spare writing time, and so far is shaping up to be my best work as of yet. I'm publishing it soon (more like soon-ish) so keep your eyes peeled.

So, back to the main reason we're here…

On with the chapter!

**000**

Shallow breathing echoed around the inside of the cave, punctuated by irregular footsteps. The owner grunted and staggered sideways, falling against the wall of the cave. He had extremely pale yellow skin and oily, bronze coloured hair. The man clasped at his right forearm; rich purple blood soaked between his fingers and ran down the lifeless appendage.

"Have…to keep going," he whispered through clenched teeth, and he straightened up and continued staggering further into the cave.

Before he'd gone ten steps there was a glaring flash behind him and a staggeringly bright yellow orb fired past his shoulder, pulling to a stop a mere ten metres away. Its shining mass lit up the cave like the sun, exposing every orifice, and the wounded man cried out in alarm, throwing himself to the rocky floor, stuffing his fingers in his ears…

The next second, the orb collapsed in on itself, shrinking to the size of a pea before exploding outwards, sending a ring of searing energy burning from its centre. The light cut through the walls of the cave like they were butter, simply blasting the rock to particles. It was accompanied by a deafening sound, impossible to describe in mere words. The man lay flat on the floor, and felt the heat of the ring burn at his bare skin as it went over him. It had missed. But the sound cut into him like a knife, the sheer volume forcing into his blocked ears and blinding him.

"Go back, you witch!" he shouted, as the sound died and the light faded. The man tried to rise but collapsed, sobbing. The purple blood now covered his arm like a sheet of paint, and he couldn't see. The sheer sound had rendered his eyes and any sense of orientation and direction useless. "Leave and go to wherever you came from!"

He didn't hear the response. Nor did he see his enemy as she strode regally through the cave towards him. Her clawed feet snatched at the ground with each step, the razor sharp ivory talons clicking against the stone. A soft sadistic chuckle escaped between her mauve-tinted lips. She was tall and slender, an ice-cold beauty with an ice-cold heart.

The wounded man clutched against a stone jutting from the wall, staggering to his feet as his mind cleared and his sight eventually returned. His breathing was ragged and uneven, broken every few seconds by uncontrollable heaves. Blinking heavily, he turned his misty eyes to his pursuer. The light was poor and her entire upper body was in darkness. She raised an arm, and delicate probing fingers brushed across his glistening forehead.

"Who are you?" the man whimpered, and the fingers pushed harder against his skin.

"I? I am your extinction." Her voice was low and smooth, a teasing tone, and it all was over. The fingers closed tight around the man's head and picked him easily from the ground, throwing him far into the cave. A humming ball of energy followed a second later, and blinding light seared from the deep, illuminating every wall. A sound like an explosion echoed through the cave and then the walls themselves were disintegrating as energy hurricaned in all directions.

When the dust settled several minutes later the cave was gone, simply blown away by the ki attack. What had been in darkness for untold time was now exposed, and in the centre of the rubble stood a slender figure. She had luscious black hair sprouting from her scalp, pulled back very tightly to form a tail of hair down her back. The woman's skin was mauve, and she lacked eyebrows. Unnaturally wide eyes with no lids stared from the centre of her face, one of them covered by a sheet of red glass. Pointed ears sat on each side of her face.

The woman wore a sort of coat, dark purple armour that covered her torso and lower stomach, but apart from that she was completely bare. Large talons grew from her feet, three on each leg.

The woman touched the device on her eye, pushing a button. The sun reflected from the glass, but she didn't notice.

"_Lieutenant?"_

A deep voice issued from her earpiece, and the woman's lips widened into a smile. She always craved that voice.

"Lord Horus," she said in her seductive tones. "My mission has been completed. Planet Hive has been salvaged."

"…_Good. Every planet I attain is yet another blow towards Frieza and his organisation. You've performed well."_

The woman hissed in joy, a rolling tongue lashing from within her mouth. Small veins ran over its surface. "Thank-you, Lord Horus," she whispered, quivering. "Shall I return to you now?"

"…_Not quite. I have another mission for you to finish first."_

The woman's tongue rolled back into her mouth with a snap, the cheekbones rising in glee. She loved being beside her master, but the hint of another assignment enticed her even more.

"So soon? You spoil me."

There was a teasing chuckle. "_Listen closely…"_

A few minutes later, the woman murmured her assent, and ended the communication. Her talons clicked excitedly against the ground, and she opened her mouth and cried to the air.

"Boys! Come to me, I have something of a surprise to tell you!"

Two shadows streaked across the sky towards her, from opposite sides, before descending towards the Lieutenant. Together, they formed Lord Horus' trump card, his most valuable and skilled squadron. The Trinity.

"What's up, Ursula?" grunted the larger of the two newcomers. He was enormous, with cream coloured rubbery skin and thick fingers.

Ursula's thick tongue tasted the air, saliva dripping from it like water from a sponge. "Primal is dead. We're to take his place and complete his mission. We leave for Planet Haven at once."

**000**

Kenta stared with wide eyes across the surface of the steel table, and felt simultaneously threatened and confused.

"What's wrong?" he stammered, exchanging a glance with Ferris. The other man's eyes were fixed on Rhuna, worry etched across his forehead. That didn't bode well at all.

"Who is this Horus?" asked Geani sharply, as expressionless as usual. Before anyone could answer, there was a deafening crash as Makurin slammed his fist onto the table. It crumpled around his hand and twisted horribly, the steel mangled. The Saiyan's pitch black eyes flashed angrily.

"_Damn this!" _he shouted, and suddenly he was on his feet, stalking away towards the wall. A silence followed in his wake, and Makurin stopped a foot away from the door, visibly struggling to control himself. When he spoke, his voice shook. "This is it then, it's over. All for nothing. We may as well have let Primal kill the world."

"That's _enough!" _snapped Arasha, stepping forward. Like Geani, she wasn't letting anything slip, in perfect control. "Calm yourself, Saiyan. How dare you suggest such a thi-"

"You _don't know!" _retorted Makurin without even turning around. "If you did, you wouldn't say that…Horus is _evil. _He's…he's _wicked_. To the core. If he's the one behind this, then his eye has captured this planet already."

"He's right," said Blitzo without emotion. He hadn't moved an inch and spoke without conviction. "Quite frankly…we'd have been lucky with Frieza."

Kenta was shaken, and he could tell he wasn't the only one. He'd never heard any of the Saiyans admit defeat before. Even over the smallest quarrel they would continue arguing until they emerged victorious. Makurin's reaction – and even worse, Blitzo's - was freaking Kenta out.

"_Does he really think we have no chance…?"_

"You're being foolish…" said Geani quietly, cold disappointment in his voice. "Both of you. You're not yourselves. How can you, a Saiyan – one of the last remaining of the ultimate blood-knight fighting race - give in so easily? I refuse to believe that it's over yet."

"Neither do I," said Ferris resolutely. He hadn't taken his eyes off Rhuna, as if trying to reassure her. After Makurin's outburst, Rhuna looked considerably less shell-shocked, as if some of her load had been taken off by it.

Suddenly another voice came to life, as Dr. Sonny Billany looked around at them all, eyebrows furrowed. "Hold on a second. I don't know if I'm missing something here or what, but I'm pretty sure I'm not the only one who's a little confused. Who exactly is this Horus guy? Why's everyone freaking out so much?"

Kenta nodded without realising it, and he saw Don and Ferris both begin listening intently at Sonny's question. Even Geani's eyes were blazing with curiosity.

Zeang waited a moment before answering, once it was clear that none of the Saiyans were about to. Makurin still looked one negative thought away from blowing something up in the world's most destructive temper tantrum.

"Where should I start…?" said Zeang hesitantly. "Like Frieza, Horus is something of a galactic tyrant. One of the head honchos in the universe, you could say. His organisation, the Planetary Trade, is a lot smaller than the World Trade Organisation run by Frieza, but just as notorious. The two are rivals, and they hate each other's guts."

Kenta was beginning to feel chills. By the sound of it, Horus was on the same level as Frieza in terms of power, and he'd heard enough horror tales to know that that sort of skill wasn't something they could compare with.

Frieza, after all, had destroyed Planet Vegeta effortlessly. Kenta thought of the intense pride and determination that was present in the three Saiyans he knew. Frieza had slain thousands of them in an instant.

"So why don't they just try and kill each other?" Kenta asked. He was aware of how shaky his voice sounded. Thankfully, no one commented on it.

"Who knows?" replied Zeang. "I'd guess it was because each is scared that they'd lose to the other. Others say they secretly enjoy the competition. But whatever the reason, they're constantly at odds over planets, and they both have their advantages – Frieza believes in power through sheer numbers, and employs thousands to do his bidding. Horus, on the other hand, values skill. His personal army only has perhaps four hundred warriors. But each one is powerful. I'd say that Primal would be of average strength for someone in the Planetary Trade, perhaps a little on the stronger end."

"So…what's going to happen now?" murmured Sonny. "Will they attack?"

Zeang sighed, and picked up the Scouter from the mangled table. "Primal had time for a single word before Ferris killed him. '_Send_'. He was trying to tell Horus to dispatch another exterminator to finish the job."

"So they're coming."

The words cut through the air like a chilled blade. Every eye in the room turned to Blitzo, and he stared straight back. He looked defeated already. "Horus won't stop until Haven is his. It's over."

He stood up and his chair fell backwards to crash on the floor. Stony-faced, eyes averting those of everyone else, Blitzo strode to the exit and shoved Makurin from the way, before wrenching open the door and stalking out. The door slammed shut behind him, leaving those behind in a stunned silence.

"What power is this?" muttered Ferris, barely loud enough to be heard. "What sheer nightmarish strength is enough to cow even a Saiyan?" He looked up, turning to the greatest voice of reason of those not native. "Zeang…?"

Zeang didn't move. His bulbous head hung forward like a great weight, features sagging. It was if he had aged ten years in seconds, but his eyes remained sharp and focussed. Slowly, he looked everyone else in the eye, one by one, and then his eyes closed and he shook his head.

"I don't know what to do," he admitted, "and I don't know what to say to make this seem any less terrifying."

Kenta jumped as the door closed again. He flicked his eyes to the entrance but no one had entered. Confused, Kenta looked around, and then he saw. Arnika was gone.

"_She's gone after Blitzo," _he thought, shivering. The Saiyan's abrupt departure seemed to have made the room colder. Blitzo, the strongest of them all, who had defeated Denkuma when no one else could, had lost hope already.

The mere possibility of Horus' intervention had sucked the spirit right out of him.

**000**

Arnika slammed the door behind her, shattering the glass in the frame. The entire wall shook.

By the time she'd followed Blitzo from her lab, he'd already disappeared, but she knew exactly where he was going. Arnika turned her head to the West, and just as she suspected she could already sense his energy signature.

The smell of salt lingered in the air as Arnika reached the prairie next to the city. Across the empty field was the Chigiri Cliffs, dropping sharply away to the ocean. Determined, Arnika marched across the stretch of tangly grass and found a lone Saiyan at the edge of the cliff, staring into the midnight sky.

"Blitzo!"

Blitzo didn't take his eyes from the rolling ocean, stoutly ignoring Arnika, who moved in front of him. He looked depressed, like he'd given up hope already.

"Hey!" snapped Arnika, and poked him hard in the chest. She was furious. "What the hell is up with you, Blitzo? So this Horus guy is sending his blokes around to mash our kneecaps? Are you seriously going to just let him kill _everybody?"_

Blitzo was silent, staring over the edge of the cliff. The stars reflected dully in his pitch black eyes, but they didn't twinkle or shine. The gentle crashing of the waves against the bottom of the rocky drop echoed up to them.

Arnika slapped him.

The crack of her palm smacking against Blitzo's cheek was deafening. Blitzo froze, shocked, as a red welt shone on the side of his face. Arnika stared at him with an ice-cold scowl; it was the most awful expression Blitzo had ever seen on her face. She hit him again, this time on the opposite cheek, and his jaw tensed.

Like a snake, the Saiyan's hand rose and caught Arnika's third strike, grasping her wrist tightly. His steel-shattering grip closed around the woman's arm, but she didn't flinch.

"Let me go," she said quietly and venomously.

"No."

His reply was guttural and low, and the wild and terrible instinct inside him flared. Arnika attempted to twist out of his grasp and failed under Blitzo's strength.

"Is there anything else you wanted to ask me?" he growled, leaning in so his face was in hers. The man's upper lip was raised at the corners, like a rabid dog raising its heckles.

"Only this; who are you, and what have you done with my husband?" Arnika said defiantly.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"I think you do, Blitzo. I think you do! The Blitzo I know would never give up like you have. You're a Saiyan, for God's sake. Where's your pri-"

"_You don't know _anything_ of Saiyans!" _shouted Blitzo ferociously.

A tortured silence fell between them. Arnika stopped struggling to free her arm and stared at Blitzo with a glare of disappointment. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Blitzo felt disgusted with himself. In the entire time they'd known each other, from the day they'd met, there hadn't been a single time that he'd ever raised his voice at her. They'd never fought, not seriously. They'd never even really argued at all.

But the rational side of Blitzo was quivering beneath the enraged emotion at the forefront of his mind.

Before Blitzo's physical bulk, and the knowledge of what he was capable of – the sheer ease that he could slaughter anyone in his path – any normal person would have cowered immediately. But Arnika had never been one to back down before someone talking down to her. Her fiery and unrelenting personality was part of what made her so attractive to him.

"What, Blitzo?" she hissed, swinging her hair over her shoulder, unafraid. "What don't I understand about your race?"

Blitzo's chest was heaving, and his grip tightened. The bones in Arnika's wrist felt like they were about to snap, but she didn't let it show on her face. She couldn't even feel any pain, she was so angry at the man she called her husband.

"I am the last of my species," Blitzo began. His jaw was extremely tight, and his words came out slurred and fierce. "Don't lecture me on pride and honour. You don't understand for a second what my race has been through. We are not _barbarians _who think nothing but fighting. We are not primitive apes who jump into battle without a second thought! You speak of my heritage, and you command me to march to war with an opponent who is impossible to defeat, assuming that I'd be able to simply power to my max and blow him away. You speak of my pride like it's something you can just pick up off the ground! Yes, we love to fight! It is a part of us as breathing is to you. But my people are not fools! We know our limits. We know when it is time to fight and when it is time to not. If Saiyans were as one-dimensional and irrational as you so obviously think, we would have become extinct a long time before we did."

Arnika was still, her piercing green eyes level with Blitzo's black ones. "Is that what you think?" she whispered poisonously. "_Is that what you think? _That I don't know who you are? That I can't _see _what you feel underneath? How _dare _you?"

She glared meaningfully at his crushing fingers around her wrist, and he let go angrily, before taking several steps back and scowling at the ground.

"You're stronger than all of us," said Arnika. "You could defeat anybody on Haven. You're the best. But now that someone better's come along, are you just going to quit and give in? I know who you are, Blitzo. I know that you're not a barbarian, not some mindless ape. And what I know is thatyou're _not_ a coward. Never, in a million years. You accuse me of thinking of you as some goon, an empty shell who thinks of nothing but fighting? What _shit."_

Blitzo flinched as if she'd struck him again, and took another step back. There was a crash from below as a wave broke against the rocky cliff, and a gust of wind blew the misty vapour over them.

"I can see into you," murmured Arnika, not breaking eye contact once. "I know better than anyone who you are. You're not just a Saiyan, Blitzo. You know compassion. You know kindness. It's what makes you who you are, and that's who I fell in love with. Not the warrior. Not the victor. The _person. _That's who I love, and that's who I've loved since the day I met him. I've never stopped, not once."

She knew even as she spoke the words that they had been among the truest she'd ever spoken, and for a moment her anger waned and her voice softened. "Why are we fighting, Blitzo? I've only ever had fun around you. Even when Denkuma was about to kill me, the first and only person I thought of who could save me was you. Not Makurin. Not Ferris. Not even my own brother. _You. _So why are you acting like this? All aloof and cold. It's not who you are. I _know _who you are."

"Do you?"

It was like he'd shrunk. The Saiyan's voice was small and thin, shaking. Arnika had never heard Blitzo speak like that before. It scared her. His eyes were empty.

"Do you really know who I am? Even I don't. But at least I have some idea…"

He looked at her.

"We all look back on it like it was just a day at the beach. But it wasn't. My entire species was _murdered, _Arnika. Wiped from existence by an omnicidal maniac. Horus will do the same to this planet. This isn't like Denkuma; these guys are entire leagues above all of us; their power is akin to that of physical _Gods._ I don't want what happened to the Saiyans to happen to your people. But I don't know how to stop it. I...I just don't know. What can I do?"

"You can fight!" shouted Arnika. "You can fight, because the only other alternative is sitting back and letting him slaughter the world. You say that you don't want the genocide of the Saiyans to happen all over again? Well, guess what; the Haviens don't stand a chance alone. We _need _to fight. That is what we can do."

Blitzo didn't answer, just stood shaking, fists clenched and teeth bared. And then, to Arnika's complete shock, she saw a glistening in his eye, and a tear slid from the black abyss. He growled angrily, but couldn't stop more from coming. The drops ran down his jaw like shards of ice, sliding over his upper lip and into his open grimace. The Saiyan closed his eyes, but the tears sprang from between the lids.

"I-I'm sorry…" he murmured, lurching his head as if to shake off the tears. "I know that…that it's useless to give in. But I'm terrified for you. You act like you're not scared, and that scares _me. _I'd rather die than lose the ones I love. You, least of all."

He chuckled humourlessly. "It's not very Saiyan-like of me, is it? Speaking of giving my life for another. It's not really something my people practices. Nor is showing fear, or giving in. I guess I'm just not the right one to carry on their legacy. I don't deserve that privilege."

Blitzo closed his eyes and was silent, listening to the lapping water. And then he felt a warm pair of arms wrap themselves around his waist, and Arnika pressed against him. Her head was heavy against Blitzo's neck, but he didn't mind.

"You're more deserving of that legacy than any Saiyan ever was," Arnika whispered, tightening her grip. "And you _can _save Haven from Horus and his men. Don't let them get your spirit down, you hear me?"

Blitzo was stunned, but nodded slowly. Arnika took a step back and smiled briefly, before pecking him on the lips.

"I'm going to bed," she said quietly. "And if someone else crawls in next to me, I'll know that they're the hero I always knew they were."

She stepped around him and walked slowly away from the cliffs, towards the city in the distance.

"Goodnight, Blitzo. Know that I love ya."

She disappeared without another word. Blitzo didn't watch her leave, continuing to stare out at the ocean. He could still smell the salt of her tears, although they might have been his own.

"_You mean the world to me, Arnika," _he thought. "_And if defending the world is what it takes to save you…then I guess that's what I'll have to do."_

Blitzo shivered; a chilling wind had blown in from the sea, and clouds broiled in the sky over the water. A massive wave struck the cliff, blowing a wash of spray into the air and over the edge, showering Blitzo with vapour.

The cold reminded him of the deep of space, travelling through the abyss to distant planets. To wipe out life, that had been his mission. Alongside thousands, he had once been a harbinger of destruction. An exterminator, working for a madman.

"_I don't know how many have died by my hand. But despite it, I've been given a second chance. A chance at peace and a life with treasured friends."_

In his mind's eye, he remembered. That fateful day, his final hour on Planet Vegeta.

"_Yo, Bardock! What's happening?"_

Vegeta had been destroyed shortly after, along with the spiky-haired Saiyan that Blitzo so looked up to. Gone, forever. Frieza's wrath could not be stopped.

"_This isn't a joke, Blitzo. The Saiyans are extinct. All except for you three."_

His old life had been destroyed that day as well. And he had indeed been given a second chance. Chance – or perhaps fate – had happened upon a trio of young warriors that day. Their lives had been spared. And he could not let that go to waste. He could not die at the hands of his enemies.

_"So quickly you forget. I'm a Saiyan, the ultimate fighting race. No one can match us. We have things you don't."_

He'd met his new allies. His new friends. Companions, for life. Kenta and Ferris. Don. The Eternal Warriors; Geani, Mataro, and Arasha. Their leader, Hamasan, who had eventually given his life to hold Denkuma off. His son, Korros, an atoner.

And Arnika. His partner and wife, who shared so many happy times with him.

"_Leave…her…alone."_

Blitzo flinched as another spray of water hit him, but with it came a sense of realisation and resolution.

He would not just let them invade. He wouldn't let them destroy everything. He had been spared from death by fate. He wouldn't let them take that away from him.

"_No, I really mean it; I'd never had thought I'd be able to be with someone like you. You're…perfect, and awesome, and…incredible."_

He would fight.

Blitzo straightened to his full height, fists clenched, and raised his face to the sky. The old fire was back. The spirit that drove him every day was once again alight. A surge of energy rushed across the prairie and tore at the wind itself, as the Saiyan who was hidden became unveiled.

"Bring it on, Horus!" shouted Blitzo, his voice magnified by ki. It rolled over the water. "I'll take down you and every single one of your goons. If you want to take Haven…you'll have to go through me!"

Two hundred metres away, Arnika felt the rush and heard his voice. With a smile, she kept walking.

**000**

A quiet yawn and a grumble escaped Kenta, and he slowly opened his gummy eyes, feeling the softness of the pillow beneath his head and the sheet over his body. A small warm bundle lay in the bed next to him, head resting on Kenta's bare chest, near his neck. Kenta smiled foolishly and placed his arm around her body, her flawless skin warming his fingers.

Rachael Billany had a slim body, small and petite, with a fox-like face and delicate features. Like her brother Sonny, she had hazel eyes which were now hidden under closed lids. Kenta watched her chest rise and fall as she slept, an affectionate smile plastered across his face. He was infatuated. The two of them had only been going out for two months, which had felt like a dream to him whenever he was with her. Like Arnika and Sonny, Kenta and Rachael had been best friends through school, but it had taken him years to confess how he'd felt the entire time. She'd returned his feelings with gusto.

Kenta blinked himself to full awareness, lifting his head from his pillow and stared sleepily around the room. It had been nine days since the finale of the World Martial Tournament, when the revelation of Horus had been discovered. But nothing had happened yet. No aliens had invaded, but Kenta had heard Ferris telling Rhuna that it was only a matter of time before their enemy arrived.

For now, however, it was if Primal had never even appeared. The radiant sun of the new morning poured in through the window and saturated the bedroom, reflecting off the spotless white walls. Kenta lived a short distance from his sister and brother-in-law, his modest but still enormous house easily paid for using both the royalties of his book (one of the most read works in Haven history) and the spoils of his father's riches.

The light filling the room helped wake him up, and Kenta looked at the glowing display on the digital clock next to the bed. It read 7:29am.

Kenta shuffled deeper under the sheets, hugging Rachel tighter. She sniffed loudly, and sleepily opened her eyes. Dark glossy hair fell around her face.

"Ugh…morning," she sighed distastefully, half-lifting herself from the bed before collapsing back to the comfortable springy mattress. Her eyes looking up as high as they could go, she tilted her head back and stared at Kenta upside down. He laughed.

A blaring alarm shouted from the clock as it ticked over to 7:30. Rachael grimaced and tried to sink even further into the covers as Kenta whacked the button atop the clock, ceasing the klaxon.

"I hate that alarm," said Rachael, and let out a great yawn, her jaws parting like those of an alligator. "I'd much prefer to _sleep."_

She dropped her head against the bed roughly, before slumping her body across Kenta's, looking at him through dull eyes. Kenta stroked at her cheek with the back of his fingers. Her skin felt soft and clean under his own.

It took another twenty-five minutes to work up the motivation to get out of bed, and a further ten for Rachael. Kenta polished off a quick breakfast before stepping up to the front door, fully dressed and ready to go.

"I'm off," he called back over his shoulder. "Are we still going to _Papio's _tonight?"

"Yep. Don't be late, 'cause I sure will be."

Kenta shook his head as he closed the door behind him, laughing. Rachael made a habit of being late for _everything, _no matter its importance.

The Havien looked around for anybody looking his way, but the street was deserted, so he lightly touched off from the ground. The air below his feet swirled in a ring around him, but then he was gone, flying high into the air above the rest of the city. As he broke the canopy of buildings, Kenta tipped his head back as far as it would go and closed his eyes, simply relishing for a moment the sensation of the wind rushing past him. His body felt weightless.

Kenta shouted in sheer ecstasy as he broke the clouds, the puffy white masses parting as he tore through their wispy mass. His voice was quickly caught on the wind and ripped away but he didn't care. Yelling as loud as he could, Kenta spun and looped in the air, the sky his playground.

Far below, the collection of buildings looked like a postage stamp, but with seconds that was gone as Kenta left Grandiose City far behind. In moments, the sprawling skyscrapers transformed into rolling fields and lush forests. Kenta took a second to judge the currents around his body before letting himself fall, twisting until he was streaking towards the ground head first. He pulled out of the dive just before he hit the ground, skimming across the grassy plains as if he were a jet plane. Blades of wind sliced the air as his arms, held out wide on either side, cut through the sky.

It was impossible to describe the feeling one got while flying. A sense of freedom unrivalled by anything. After all, when you could take to skies at will, what was out of your reach? If you wanted to go somewhere, you went. And even that immense sensation was dwarfed by the thrills of the flight, the feeling of air beneath you. Kenta breathed in deeply as he coasted over some pastures; far below, a herd of cattle stared thickly up at him, as if unable to believe their eyes.

As the warrior crossed the surface of the planet, it was if the stress of the past week was evaporating on the wind. He felt elated, and such was the thrill of his flight that he suddenly felt able to defeat Horus' army single-handed.

Kenta closed his eyes again, smile running rampant across his face. In the distance, he could see some more skyscrapers reaching to sky. Nao City, third greatest of the five Chief Cities. It had been rebuilt after Denkuma's wrath had blown it to the ground five years earlier, but was now back in full standing. Kenta took in the might of the city from afar, hovering in the sky. It seemed like the perfect picture.

The peaceful image was shattered in an instant.

Kenta gasped and stared wildly into the blue sky as he felt it. A massive concentration of energy was moving towards him from above; he could feel it as easily as if it were right next to him.

"_They're here…"_

Then he saw them. Like meteors, three burning red spheres fired from the atmosphere, trailing tails of some sort of blue smoke behind them. The smoke mapped their trajectory perfectly, hanging in the air like stains.

Space pods. They had to be. The pods streaked towards the ground, and Kenta saw with a shock that they were heading directly for Nao City. Who knows how much damage the beings inside would do?

With an explosion of energy, Kenta charged desperately for the city.

**000**

Ferris spun sharply as Zeang let out a shocked gasp, and was at his shoulder immediately as the big-headed alien began typing feverishly at the keyboard. Arnika joined them a second later.

"What? What is it?" she demanded, and Zeang spoke quickly. He stood before a large screen with alien figures all over it. Arnika couldn't read a word.

The computer had been designed by Zeang, modelled on the Scouter they'd taken from Primal. It did much the same thing, only more powerful and with much better accuracy.

"So soon?" whispered Zeang. "I didn't expect them to get here so fast…"

Arnika's stomach dropped. "Horus' men?"

Zeang nodded. "This is catastrophic. According to this, they're coming down on Nao City. By the time we get there they'd have destroyed the whole thing."

"I'll go now," said Ferris immediately, and strode from the room. Arnika leant down closer, not taking her eyes from the screen despite her inability to read the text.

"Who are they? Are they strong?"

Zeang nodded gravely. "I'm afraid so. He's sent the Trinity."

**000**

"_The Trinity? What's that?"_

Kenta gaped in shock as he beheld the carnage before him. The three pods had impacted in the main street, blowing apart the surroundings like papier-mâché. A crater sunk into the ground before him, and the air was filled with screams as people swarmed away from the site of the wreckage.

Kenta ran to the brink of the crater and look within.

"_The Trinity is formed by Horus' three strongest exterminators. They're loyal only to him, and all three are completely ruthless."_

The pods were buried in the rubble, but even as Kenta watched they let out an identical hiss. The pods were white all over, with a red dome on one side. Suddenly, the pods unfolded, a door appearing on the side of each.

Three warriors stepped out.

Furthest from Kenta was an enormous man, with sickening cream-coloured skin and no hair. His neck was so thick that it looked as if his head just sat upon his shoulders, and his fingers were all like sausages.

The complete opposite, the alien on the other side of the crater was tiny. He was also bald, with dark green skin and squinty little eyes. Around his head was some sort of dark blue helmet.

"_Oki and Puchi work as a team. They complement each other's attacks perfectly and in combat are deadly. I don't think anyone's ever gone up against them alone without coming away severely injured. And that's if they survive at all." _

They were both wearing yellow armour around their bodies, which Kenta recognised as the space armour that the Saiyans and Zeang had worn when first arriving on Haven.

But the third member was the one who really got to him. She – for it was a female – was extremely tall, with pale mauve skin and large unblinking eyes. She too wore the space armour. A long tail of hair hung down her back.

"_But that's not the worst of it. The captain of the Trinity…she's Horus' right hand man, his Dragon and lieutenant . I've heard of what she's done…she's powerful and remorseless. Someone to be terrified of…"_

The woman turned her head and looked Kenta directly in the eye. A long writhing tongue curled from between her dark purple lips and tasted the air. Thick veins covered its surface.

"_Ursula."_

**000**

They're he-e-e-e-e-e-re. The invasion has begun!

Whew, that was a long one. Made up for last chapter, I think, which was kind of short and disconnected. So, tell me what you think in a review. I love reviews.

More fun stuff! If you'll run along to my DeviantArt Account, Animaster2195, I've gone ahead and uploaded some pictures of the characters on DBX. I used an anime character designer to make them since I can't draw to save my life. So have fun looking at them.

So yeah, Horus is pretty bad news, unfortunately for our heroes. But is he really that terrifying? And who's this Ursula? Can Kenta defeat the Trinity all on his own? Find out next time on Dragon Ball X!


	9. Second Reckoning

**Dragon Ball X**

Hiya, guys! Well, Part 1 of the first OVA is now out and published, available on my profile. Make sure to read the parts of the OVAs as they come out, because they're canon to the story and are important in the long run. You'll see why eventually.

So, enough beating about the bush. On with the chapter!

**000**

Like a geyser, water fountained from the cracked, broken road, sending a fine mist in all directions. It sprayed across the asphalt and against the buildings adjacent to the main street, darkening the walls. Kenta didn't even notice the water dampening his hair and clothes as he peered over the lip of the pit, into the crater. There was a lump in his throat, and an even bigger one in his stomach. The energy output from the centre of the crater was enormous. Horus' mercenaries were no weaklings. Primal was nothing.

In the distance, sirens blared, and Kenta gritted his teeth without even realising it. Sirens meant police, and normal Haviens were completely out of their league here. Kenta bit his lip; already people had begun to disregard the danger and gather, looking as one into the pit, where the three aliens watched back. The massive one – who looked like he could wrap his fingers around someone's neck and touch his thumb and forefinger together – grunted, his wide mouth opening to reveal a set of tombstone-like teeth. A green scouter was attached to the side of his face, specially made to fit his specifications. A similar device – this one with a red lens – decorated the cheek of his associate, the tiny alien. He was barely a metre tall.

"Oki. Puchi."

It was the third alien who had spoken. Her creepily wide eyes lay directly on Kenta, as if drawn to him. He shivered; even her voice sounded like poison. It was heavy and lustful, deeper than Kenta was accustomed to, but also smooth and enticing, like wicked honey.

The woman's spongy tongue lashed. She raised a delicate looking finger and touched it to the button on her red Scouter. Kenta saw alien figures flicker across the tinted glass. Suddenly it beeped very loudly, and the rush of foreign numbers settled on a single symbol. For a moment, the owner looked surprised, her pointed ears twitching.

"My, my," she hissed slowly, and then her eyes were back on Kenta. "Aren't you a little toughie?"

"Hey, who the hell are you!" shouted a man somewhere on Kenta's right. Similar demands responded around the crater, and the first man stepped up to the edge, presenting his chest to the three aliens. "This isn't your city to bust up!"

"Get back!" yelled Kenta urgently. The man dully turned his head, taking a second to register the shouted command, but death was already on his way. The massive exterminator in the pit shifted his weight and left the ground; his massive body looked almost silly flying. The weightlessness didn't look possible. It took less than a second to clear the distance between him and the man who had shouted, who didn't even see him coming.

"_Move!" _grunted Kenta as he threw himself at the helpless Havien. He managed to shove the man out of harm's way, but that left him no time to counter; the incoming mercenary had absolutely no hesitation changing targets, slamming his hammer-like fist into the youth. Kenta let out a brief bark of pain as the attack broke through his hasty guard, before the kinetic energy sent his body hurtling backwards. The solid concrete and steel wall of one of the buildings behind him cracked and exploded into clouds of choking dust and particles. Kenta disappeared under the wreckage. Glass shattered as the entire building swayed, a sixteen-storey apartment block.

People screamed as the tower shifted, but it stayed upright. Most simply stared in horror at where Kenta had been lost from sight. The huge cream-coloured henchman stood with one foot out of the crater, balancing on the slope. He cracked his knuckles against each other and leered at the man Kenta had pushed from his way. He looked big enough to swallow a bowling ball whole.

The momentarily-rescued man had landed awkwardly on the road, spraining his wrist, but that was the least of his worries now. Completely ignoring the pain shooting up his arm, he scrambled backwards as fast as his crab-walk could take him, before reaching a car; the owner had deserted it on the side of the road, preferring to run.

"W-Who _are _you people?" he cried.

The enormous alien showed off his set of crushing teeth, grinding them together. "You can call me Oki, little man. See you in Hell!"

He stepped out of the crater fully and closed his fist. Just as the Havien closed his eyes and curled into a ball, there was a loud crunching noise. Oki stopped moving and looked around, surprised. Just in time to see the pile of shattered cement blocks and rubble shift. With a loud grunt, Kenta rolled the biggest chunk off his body and staggered to his feet, legs threatening to give way under him. White chalk covered the warrior's body and he was panting heavily, but nevertheless he fixed Oki with a hard gaze.

"Hey," said Oki accusingly. "You should be dead."

Kenta took a painful swallow; his chest was aching from the blow and his back was killing him where he'd hit the wall. "I don't think I'm going to go down that easy."

"_I've already taken a fair bit of damage, and I don't have my sword with me," _thought Kenta, surreptitiously leaning against the uneven edge of the broken wall. It wouldn't be good to let his enemies see how much the blow had taken out of him. "_This won't be easy, especially without anyone to back me up. Three against one aren't my favourite odds."_

There weren't many spectators left now, just a few people too thick to realise that they should get the hell out of there. Oki lost interest in the cowering man and turned to face Kenta fully.

"_Now!"_

"Run, all of you!" yelled Kenta, before snapping into action. Casting off the pain from the collision with the building, he sprinted across the sidewalk and flickered, his body seeming to speed up. Before you could blink, he was in front of Oki, and the giant caught his fist in a heartbeart.

"Ha!" Oki chuckled. "Nice try, little Havien."

Kenta froze, in shock. He hadn't expected a fast enough response to block. Changing tactics, he grabbed the invader's arm with his free hand and used it to pull himself into the air, swinging his right foot around in an arc for Oki's neck. That too was countered just in time. This time, Oki grunted at Kenta's leg struck at the arm he'd used to block the attack. They grappled for a few seconds, Oki pushing back the leg and Kenta struggling to break through his guard.

Their problem was solved fairly quickly, as Oki's compatriot joined the squabble. The tiny alien looked laughably fragile next to Oki's gargantuan frame, but Kenta had no doubt that he was just as dangerous.

The diminutive extra-terrestrial zipped into the air until he had a clear shot over Oki's head, before extending his pointer finger and letting loose with a volley of orange ki blasts. Kenta disengaged from Oki immediately, backflipping wildly along the tarmac down the street just ahead of the ki blasts. They exploded wildly like firecrackers when they hit the ground, shooting sparks and acrid smoke and leaving tiny craters in the asphalt. Kenta skidded to a halt in a crouch, casting his gaze into the air just in time to see the dwarf descend to the ground in front of Oki.

"_I-I-I-I-I-I-I'm Puchi!" _he trilled dramatically, his voice rather high in pitch and nasally. Kenta breathed heavily as he beheld the two partners; standing behind, the colossal Oki, at least two metres tall and as big as a house. And in front, the miniscule Puchi, complete with helmet and squinty eyes. He barely came up to Oki's kneecaps.

"Just my luck…" grunted Kenta under his breath. "This is not looking good…"

**000**

"We're out of time," exclaimed Zeang, his bulbous head screwed up in concentration. "They got here a lot faster than we thought they would." Within seconds, he brought up some sort of schematic upon the screen; Arnika still couldn't read it, the letters completely foreign to her. Since the computer had been built entirely based on the CPU design of the Scouter, Zeang still hadn't gotten around to programming the translation yet.

"This won't be easy," said Zeang. "The Trinity is beyond dangerous. They might only have three members, but they're even stronger than the Ginyu Force! Ferris won't be able to take them all on by himself, even at his level. Even with the Kaio-Ken on his side, he's still outmatched."

Another few seconds and the schematic on the screen grew larger, splitting until there was a 3D blueprint projection. Arnika recognised it as an exact replica of Nao City. Zeang's technical expertise with the alien technology astounded her. She felt a pang of jealousy as she remembered just why the man had been part of Frieza's organisation. It hadn't been for his fighting skills.

With the precision of someone who had been doing it his entire life, Zeang manoeuvred his way through the city, pinpointing the location of Horus' men through their high concentrations of energy and honing in on them.

"They're right in the heart of the city," mused Zeang, looking confused. "But this says…that can't be. It doesn't make any sense!"

"What?"

"I'm picking up _four _significant power levels."

"Four?" gasped Arnika. She examined the screen; the entire 3D map of the city was tinted orange, and sure enough, there were four bright pulses splayed across the main street, blinking incessantly.

Zeang's dexterous fingers tapped at the keys like the computer was a piano, and walls of text scrolled up beside the schematic of Nao City. His jaw almost literally dropped.

"_It's_ _Kenta!"_

"_WHAT?" _shrieked Arnika, shoving Zeang out of the way and glaring at the foreign-looking symbols, completely nonsensical to her eyes. "Are you telling me that my _brother's _fighting those freaks alone? What's he doing there?"

"He doesn't know what he's getting himself into," intoned Zeang gravely. "Kenta might stand a chance against Oki and Puchi, just barely. But if Ursula joins in the fight, he'll be killed for sure…"

**000**

Kenta's shoes scuffed against the sidewalk as he skidded backwards, arms crossed in front of his chest. He had barely a second to rest before a storm of searing orange ki bullets sliced towards him. Kenta didn't even try to block, simply leaping as far as his legs could take him and flipping rather ungracefully through the air. His legs buckled slightly as he landed. Thankfully, the streets surrounding the crater were almost completely bare now, and for that Kenta was grateful.

Because if anyone was still out they probably would have been killed by now.

Like insanely souped-up firecrackers, the ki blasts exploded in a shower of sparks as they hit the pavement, sending a wave of smoke across the street. Kenta threw up his hands to protect his face from a hail of rubble and razor sharp debris. The smoke dispersed, revealing the remains of the sidewalk; it looked like a warzone.

"Hya!" grunted Puchi as he landed on the top of a street pole; his tiny body perched perfectly on the head of the thin obelisk. "You're actually pretty good!"

There was a tremendous crunching noise followed by a thunderous crack as the street split in two, an enormous rift running down the centre. Kenta sprung to the side to avoid the rapidly developing fissure and then immediately ducked as Puchi's helmeted head came straight for him. The tiny alien missed his headbutt by only a few centimetres, ploughing into the pavement behind Kenta. Once again, the Havien was interrupted before he could counter the strike, as Oki's huge mass barrelled down the now-divided street and lunged at him. Kenta pushed off from the ground and skipped over Oki's punch, running up the giant man's arm and flipping over his head, landing in a crouch. Oki spun, his arm swinging like a tree branch, and smacked Kenta across the face, throwing him several metres away from the deadly duo.

Not half a second later, an orange streak lit up the street only metres from his face. Kenta's eyes widened briefly before the energy expanded into a deafening crackle of sparks and lightning and then everything was a bright white as the ball exploded.

Puchi giggled delightedly as a shockwave rippled through the surrounding area, crushing the concrete beneath their feet like it was Styrofoam. Several cars were blown from the tarmac to smash into the buildings around them. Kenta gasped as a huge SUV skidded along the road towards him and braced his body with ki just in time for the behemoth to fold around him, the metal twisting and knocking Kenta right off his feet. He gave a yell as it rolled over on top of him, completely obscuring the Havien from view.

Smoke billowed from the small crater where Puchi's energy ball had detonated, and the two exterminators stared at the wreckage of the SUV lying a short distance away. Oki nudged his smaller companion, cream fingers each the size of Puchi's entire arm.

"Dead as a space-duck. Not so majestic once they're lying in a heap, eh?"

"You got that right, Oki!" cackled Puchi. He feigned wistfulness: "Shame I had to kill him. So much potential wasted." The alien smirked again, showing off pointy little teeth. "But if he went down that easily, it couldn't have been too much!"

Oki began trudging back down the street to where the third member of the Trinity still waited. Puchi scurried after him, taking into the air and hovering above the tarmac.

"As soon as Ursula gives us the go ahead we can start the slaughter," said Oki, cracking his knuckles in preparation. "I'm looking forward to that part, aren't you?"

Puchi nodded and swooped over to the giant, now level with Oki's shoulder. But as he began to cackle once again, there came a very loud crunch from behind them.

Oki stopped in surprise, looking back. He had to turn his entire body to do so, lacking the neck. Puchi turned as well, and was so shocked that he dropped almost a foot out of the air. The SUV was shifting, rocking back and forth, when suddenly it lifted entirely off the ground, swaying gently as Kenta rose to his full height, the family-sized vehicle held warily above his head. A white aura surrounded his body, but quite suddenly a red spark shot through it. Oki started.

"Wha-? He's not dead at all! That's the second time this has happened to me with this kid."

Puchi landed on the asphalt, teeth bared. "Oi, kid! Why won't you stay dead?"

Kenta breathed heavily, spitting a small mouthful of blood onto the ground next to him. It soaked quickly into the tar, dying it a dark brown. With an uncharacteristic scowl, Kenta turned his glaring eyes on Oki and Puchi. The duo instinctively moved a step closer together.

"Playtime's over. My move," growled Kenta, and the muscles in his arms bulged and his flickering aura swelled even larger. With a loud grunt, Kenta pulled the SUV over his shoulders, and for a moment the enormous topweight of the vehicle threatened to tear the main body directly off the chassis. But then it was careening back over the Havien's head and beginning a direct course for where Oki and Puchi stood waiting.

"HRAAHH!"

Kenta released his grip on the vehicle and it left his hands, rolling several times in the air as it lurched down the street. Oki and Puchi faded from sight as they took to the air in identical movements, and the makeshift projectile missed, ramming into the street and bouncing wildly. The cabin buckled under the weight when it landed on its roof, and all four wheels were ripped from the body, as well as two doors and bizarrely, the steering wheel.

Kenta tore his eyes from the impressive and expensive wreckage, tracking his opponent's movements with expert eyes. They pulled from their ascensions twenty storeys up, hovering alongside the buildings.

"Oh, blast!" shouted Puchi as he saw Kenta staring up at them. "How did he keep up with us so fast?"

Oki raised one of his sausage fingers and jabbed at the button on the side of his green Scouter, quickly isolating this Havien's Power Level and scanning it. The numbers jumped back and forth across the eyepiece, but were going haywire.

"Who is this guy?" Oki stammered.

Kenta's body rippled and his aura focussed under him. With an explosive decompression of ki from the soles of his feet, Kenta rocketed up into the air after his enemies, leaving a sizable crater beneath him.

Oki's Scouter beeped urgently for a moment and displayed a solid number before completely malfunctioning, shooting sparks and smoke and then literally falling apart right then and there. "It was over 90,000!" he yelled, and the next second Kenta was in their midst. Oki's jaw sagged as Kenta fist plunged into his stomach.

Kenta allowed himself a grin of satisfaction as he finally inflicted visible pain onto the larger one. Until now any blows had either been blocked or pretty much ignored. The Havien was already growing weary; he'd been punched almost through a building and then almost crushed under a several-tonne car. He knew that if he hadn't have protected his body with ki, the SUV could have done some serious damage. They may be super-powered fighters, but a significant part of that strength came from the energy in their bodies and its manipulation.

Kenta pulled his fist away from Oki and backtracked quickly through the air until he was at least twenty metres away. The three fighters formed a triangle between themselves; only, two of the corners wanted to gang up on the other. They watched him warily – Puchi's squinty little eyes narrowed and his fingers were twitching. Oki just looked enraged that Kenta had managed to land a hit on him. But both of them had a new look in their eyes now. One of wariness. They'd seen that he wasn't some pipsqueak now.

Kenta's jaw ached from the blow across the face a minute earlier, and the subsequent energy attack from Puchi hadn't done him any favours. He could feel blood coagulating inside his nose. Kenta lacked the stamina of the Saiyans. He had to gain the advantage.

"_On their own, neither of these two are at my level," _he thought. "_That's where their advantage comes from; they can work as a team." _Kenta remembered to their scuffle before. As soon as Kenta went to strike one, the other would wade in and distract him. When he tried to attack _them, _the first would intercept his blow from behind. "_I have to get them on their own, or they'll never let me win."_

He flickered his gaze past the alien duo to their landing site, several hundred metres away. "_And there's still that third one. I don't even know what she's like, but I'm guessing it's not good."_

"Enough standing around!" bellowed Oki suddenly. "I'm going to kill you for good this time!"

And with that, he launched forward, crossing the gap in the air and filling it with a fist. Kenta dodged just in time, ducking to the side and descending slightly. He came to a stop on the side of the building, pressing his feet against it and standing against the wall. Grimacing as his head spun, Kenta raised his head to the aliens just in time to see Puchi streaking towards him, cackling madly. His fingers were held at the ready, tips glowing ominously.

"HWOOORRRHH!" he screamed, and then hundreds of orange ki blasts were shooting from his fingers like darts, firing at the side of the building. Kenta sprinted across the surface, weaving madly as energy exploded all around him. The windows shattered into infinite pieces and glass rained upon the street below, and then the ki blasts were firing _into _the building. Screams and panicked shouts came from within as the office inside exploded with orange energy.

Kenta gathered his energy around his feet and left the wall, spinning in midair before he could regain his flight. Still flying upside down, he stretched both his arms to their maximum length and placed the bases of his palms together. His hands glowed.

"Burning Current!" cried Kenta, and an energy wave of his own burst from his hands. The crimson ki roared at Puchi, who didn't have enough time to block it. Suddenly, Oki dropped from above, placing himself between the beam and Puchi. The giant swung his arm and connected with the energy, deflecting it off at a different angle. The beam crashed into the side of an adjacent skyscraper and blew straight through.

"Oh no!" shouted Kenta as he saw his own attack penetrate the tower. "_People are getting hurt. But…if I don't fight all out, I'll only get killed myself. And then everyone in Nao City will die."_

There was a colossal groan of steel as the skyscraper snapped in half; the damage was too great to sustain. There came a thousand screams from both in the tower and surrounding offices as the upper half of the skyscraper fully ripped from the base and fell. Every window was crushed under the pressure as it collapsed onto several other buildings, rending straight through them. A cloud of dust and rubble mushroom-clouded into the sky. The sound was louder than anything Kenta had ever heard.

"I wouldn't let my guard down if I were you!" hissed Oki, and suddenly he was right in front of Kenta and lashing out. Kenta screamed in frustration and anger, his rage giving him power. He easily intercepted the blow, and then grabbed onto Oki's forearm. It was about as thick as a tree trunk, but Kenta dug his fingers into the solid mass and found a purchase.

"_Leave this planet alone!" _he roared, and began to spin, pulling Oki with him. The giant shouted as he was dragged in a wide arc by this Havien youth, and felt the wind piercing at his face as he built speed. With seconds he was a blur, Kenta spinning the behemoth in dizzying circles. Quite suddenly, he let go, and Oki was thrown through the air at enormous speed. He ripped directly through a nearby office, smashing apart desks and partitions before tumbling out the other side, beginning the long fall to the ground below.

Meanwhile Puchi quailed as Kenta turned a murderous gaze on him. The Havien's white aura was beginning to darken significantly, and had a slight red tinge about it. And without Oki to back him up, Puchi was at a massive disadvantage.

Better go on the offensive then.

"Take this!" he screeched, thrusting out his arms and letting rip. The ensuing hellstorm of ki bullets was wild and uncontrollable, shooting in all directions and detonating madly against every surface. Kenta was forced to wheel backwards in the air to evade the worst of it, but not before several buildings took a massive load of damage. Very quickly, rubble and chunks of steel and cement joined the energy blasts. Smoke and dust filled the air.

By the time the air had cleared, most of the surrounding city had been destroyed, and a shocked silence filled the city. On the streets below, the emergency services had finally begun to arrive, and they came by the dozen. Ambulances, firetrucks, and police cars. Sirens filled the air.

Puchi hung in the air, breathing extremely heavily and hunching over. He wretched, but nothing came up. Which was good, because when his species vomited it was not a pretty sight. Kenta was nowhere to be seen.

"Damn that kid," stammered Puchi under his breath. He hadn't expected this much of a fight from such a backwards planet. This made no sense at all. Dimly, Puchi realised that he'd never fought someone like this before. The Havien's power was admirable.

"Looking for me?" grunted a voice, and Puchi's eyes shot open in shock. The voice had come from directly behind him, and it didn't sound happy.

The kick came swift and unforgiving, directly in the centre of the diminutive alien's back. He shrieked in pain, but allowed the strike to knock him far away from the Havien. As soon as he regained control over his flight, Puchi spun in midair, fingers at the ready…

The sight that met his eyes quite literally stopped him in his tracks. The Havien hadn't gone to move any closer, but his hands were together at the base, palms glowing. His aura was surging and flickering like mad.

"Oh…" said Puchi, as Kenta shifted his weight, ready to hurl the deadly energy attack. "Bugger. I guess this is it then…"

Kenta finished charging his attack, and sparks fired from his searing hands. His green eyes - normally innocent and friendly – were as hard as steel as he stared into Puchi's tiny irises.

"Disappear now!" he cried, and bunched up his muscles, preparing to launch the atta-

SWIZCH!

Kenta's face exploded in a fountain of blood as something streaked across the city and impacted with his face. Even Puchi blanched as the Havien was blown right out of the air, spinning head over heels and beginning the long fall to the ground. But then, before he'd fallen even a metre, a purple clawed hand materialised into existence and caught him by the neck.

"Did you quite feel that, boy?" a deep thick voice whispered gently.

"U-Ursula!" gasped Puchi, his heart beating like a drum.

**000**

_Kenta drifted. He was dimly aware of a blinding pain in his forehead and something cold around his throat. Warm blood soaked his face, plugging up his nose and gluing his eyelids together. _

"What happened?"_ he asked himself, but was too far out to think. It was hard enough fighting off the shadows that threatened to entangle his mind. Tendrils of darkness that tickled his brain. Kenta went to smile at the sensation, but couldn't find the energy to achieve the action. It was beyond him._

_This revelation rang alarm bells somewhere inside him, but the dark cloud smothered those urgent thoughts and suffocated them. Entranced, Kenta fell back into the darkness. It surrounded him on all sides, closing in with every passing second. Was it the momentary unconsciousness? Or was it something more…? Kenta knew that something was happening to him. Something that he'd never felt before until now._

_The cold sweet embrace of death. _

_It lured him in. The peacefulness of it all. How easy it would be to just let go and drift like this forever._

"No…NO!"

_Part of him protested, fighting back against the cloud. It tightened its hold, but Kenta fought back. "_Open your eyes. You can't die now, the world is depending on you."

"_**Why not?" **__suggested another part of him, the part content with just letting go. __**"You owe them nothing, after all. Why should you have to fight for them at all? All you have to do is die, and then your struggles will all be over."**_

"Why should I die?" _fought back the noble side. "_The coward's way out. I won't let myself fall into that trap!"

"_**It'll be easier. Just **_**give in!"**

"NO!"

_The darkness flinched and pulled back. Kenta pressed on, driving that cloud away with every fibre of his being. _

Kenta came back in consciousness with a choked gasp, coughing up a mouthful of blood. It ran down his jaw and spilled onto the cold ring around his windpipe. A cold ring he now realised was actually the iron grip of ice-cold fingers. Kenta felt his strength drain his body as if he had a puncture. He couldn't move, and had to be content with a pained breath through his parched lips. It was barely enough oxygen to keep him awake.

"_One blow…" _he thought dimly. "_They almost killed me with one blow."_

The owner of the merciless fingers smiled cruelly, and tightened her grip. The boy could hardly struggle, and she liked it that way. Ursula's claws dug into his skin as she held him above the sheer drop to the ground. She pulled the boy closer until her mouth was against his ear.

"You have guts," she said, so quietly she almost couldn't hear herself. "I like that, you know. Pulling yourself back from the brink; I'm surprised you're not dead right now."

The Havien's pulse was very faint under her fingers. She stared lovingly at his blood-soaked face. Ursula's thick veiny tongue unravelled from within her mouth and teased the tip of it against the boy's cheek, feeling the taste of his blood. Then, slowly, she ran the tongue up his face, drawing the red liquid into her mouth. With every inch, the tongue swelled, its spongy surface writhing.

"Can you feel me on you?" she moaned, caressing her tongue around Kenta's chin, lapping up every drop of blood. "Your taste…is alluring!"

Kenta's eyes opened so wide that his entire pupil was visible, the whites of his eyes showing at the top and the bottom. They rolled in their sockets, and a groan escaped his mouth.

"N-no…"

Ursula's tongue stopped its lashing for a second, and she smiled wickedly, unnaturally wide eyes almost glowing with glee.

"What was that?"

Kenta blinked, drawing in breath. "I…s-said…no. Get o-o-off me, witch."

Ursula's fingers tightened impossibly, and Kenta flinched, gasping for breath. Ursula's tongue ran up his face again, its pointed tip poking at every crevasse of his face in broad strokes. It felt horrible and spongy, and by now was stained red with his own blood. The red substance ran from his shattered nose and a wide gash on his forehead.

"I own you now, boy. You belong to me."

The tongue circled his eyes and squeezed partway up one of his nostrils. With every second, Kenta felt something touching his mind. A corrupting snake that wormed into his brain and invaded his thoughts.

"I've met hundreds like you, and they've all met the same end."

Kenta forced his mouth shut as this freak's tongue swept over his lips, as if trying to find a way inside. The veins swelled, and the force on his mind strengthened tenfold. It was impossible to think straight. The darkness was closing in.

"Now, boy…you'll _die!"_

"_NO!_

Kenta's eyes slammed shut, and when they opened again his hand had risen from his side, to clamp around this witch's tongue and force it away from his face. The purple muscle writhed within his grasp, but with every ounce of his strength he held it away from him. As soon as it had left his face, the pressure on his mind had been released.

"_It was all an illusion," _he thought desperately. But still he knew that if not for his last-second willpower, he would have been completely under this woman's spell. And dead.

To his chagrin, Ursula didn't even seem to be taken aback, and her tongue retracted back into her mouth, pulled easily from Kenta's weak grip.

"You're full of surprises," she hissed almost lovingly, pulling Kenta closer. Her fingers were still wrapped tightly around his windpipe, barely leaving enough capacity to even draw the shallowest of breaths. "You've impressed me, child. Not many people can stand up to that and even stay conscious."

Her eyes twitched, and that smile was back. Then, she leaned in close and whispered in his ear.

"I want to see just how much you can withstand. Your mind is strong, child, and I've seen what your body can do to my comrades. But it's helpless before me."

And quite suddenly, she let go.

Kenta dimly felt the wind rushing past his face, and his body fell like a ragdoll, completely unable to stop himself. His energy was all spent, every single bit. The sky was zooming away from him, the ruined upper levels of the skyscrapers around him growing higher and higher. And there, right above him, a mauve-skinned dark beauty watching him fall to his death.

The beauty moved.

One second she was a speck in the distance, and then suddenly her taloned foot was slamming into his stomach. Kenta screamed at the sheer agony of it, as the razor claws drove into the soft skin of his belly. Then the ground was beneath him and Ursula drove him twenty metres into the road.

The shockwave would be enormous, but Kenta didn't even notice it. His entire body was simply on fire with unimaginable pain. Ursula cried out in sheer ecstasy, and she pulled him out of the dark hole and flung his limp body into the air. Kenta spun past the buildings, the wind threatening to tear his face right off his skull. A clawed hand dug into his ankle and then he was being swung around.

**000**

Puchi flinched in genuine horror as his companion latched her fingers around the Havien's leg. She scared him, that was the absolute truth. Puchi liked suffering and death, particularly when he was the one inflicting it, but he could never quite stomach the extent that Ursula went to. For her, it was her entire reason for being. It reached orgasmic levels.

She went above and beyond. Unimaginable horrors were her speciality, and she could torture someone like no one else could, second only to Lord Horus. He was ten times worse. But Ursula always had that special touch.

The tiny alien felt sick as he watched the carnage. The purple torturess swung the boy at an ungodly speed near the buildings, and his head carved a path through the steel, the metal parting before him. The Havien's screams were ear-piercing, but Ursula didn't stop, just flying across the street and doing it _again_, the entire time with a sadistic grin on her face. Puchi flinched again as Ursula threw the boy towards the ground. He impacted for the second time, and his arm snapped like a twig when he threw it out to stop his trajectory.

Puchi descended to the ground. He couldn't watch this anymore; he'd kill the boy himself if he had to.

Ursula had touched down a few metres away and she saw Puchi land, shooting him a deadly wink before stalking closer to the quivering body of Kenta. His shoulders wracked and shivered, and as the alienness rolled him over onto his stomach with a clawed foot, Puchi saw the tears pouring from his eyes.

Ursula smiled.

CRUNCH!

The boy screamed again, louder than any time before, as his ribs were shattered by the stomp. It was a terrible sound, so desperate for the pain to stop. Ursula kicked his side and he actually lifted from the ground, landing on his stomach. Kenta's broken arm bent under his body and the bone protruded from the skin, puncturing through.

"Still _alive?" _cackled Ursula, stomping on the back of his head. It smashed into the tarmac of the road, driving into the ground. She stomped again, and again.

_"_Soon you'll be begging me to kill you!"

She picked up the boy and tossed him against a building. The Havien bounced off the wall, leaving a smatter of blood, and landed with a thud on the pavement. There was a bright flash as Ursula unloaded an energy burst into his stomach, causing the Havien to lift off the ground and slam into the wall again. He raggedly drew a breath, and struggled to rise on his remaining good arm.

Ursula kicked it out from under him and bent over, plucking Kenta from the ground. She held him by the tattered remains of his gi, forcing him to his knees before backhanding himacross the cheek. Kenta crumpled onto his back, sobbing gently. He didn't have the energy to scream anymore.

"Die, brat!" Ursula whispered, and raised a clawed foot, enormous talon twitching in anticipation. It hovered over Kenta's throat. "It all ends here."

"_HYARGH!"_

Ursula twisted in alarm, but wasn't fast enough to stop the phantom blur coming from the corner of her eye. She screeched as something hard collided with her jaw, blasting her off her feet and knocking her backwards. She stumbled back along the street, gazing in pure hatred at her attacker.

Puchi gaped in amazement, but barely had a second before his neck snapped and he was dead. The alien's tiny body collapsed to the ground in a heap, motionless. Meanwhile, the shadow that had killed him flipped back and landed between Kenta and Ursula, who glared at the newcomer with evil eyes.

"Who are you to strike me, vermin?"

**000**

Kenta's eyes were blurred, but he forced himself to see through the pain…

A billowing white cape rippled in the wind that rushed down the street. It hung around the neck of a tall faultless figure, arms folded in front of its chest. A turban sat upon the figure's head, and he wore a tight blue martial arts gi, perfectly fitted to his muscular but slender body. Pink patches adorned the man's arms, standing out against the dark green of his skin.

The corner of Kenta's mouth twitched upwards in a energy-using smile, and he passed out, allowing the darkness at the edge of his vision to creep in. But not before he heard a deep voice answer in response to the question posed.

"The guardian of Haven, who's ultimate fury knows no bounds. My name is Korros, she-devil. Your fight is with me now."

**000**

SHAZAM!

See you next chapter ;)


	10. The Hunter and the Huntress

**Dragon Ball X**

Hiya guys, it's time for good old chapter 10.

Last time on Dragon Ball X, the Trinity arrived on Planet Haven. Horus' best minions, Oki, Puchi, and the dreaded Ursula met resistance in the form of Kenta Hale. A valiant battle issued in the very midst of Nao City, and while Oki and Puchi's teamwork was at first overwhelming, Kenta overcame them. But then, just as he was about to finish Puchi off for good, Ursula stepped in and showed him just why she was Horus' right hand woman - beaten to the brink of death, Kenta is saved from the killing stroke by an imposing caped figure; the legendary Korros has finally returned to battle.

Now read that in the voice of the Dragon Ball Z Narrator and it sounds ten times more awesome.

Anyways, part 2 of the OVA is up, so make absolutely sure to read it, including the announcement that it's been extended to 5 parts. Here's the schedule; Chapter 10, then Part 3, Chapter 11, Part 4, Chapter 12, Part 5, and then back to normal once the OVA is done.

By the way, another tiny announcement; remember Borxon? Neither do I. As it turns out, Borxon was the master of the Dragon Balls before Hamasan was, he was mentioned a few times in Part 1. The thing is, even I found him so unmemorable that I actually got his name mixed up with Borg, the master blacksmith and Geani's brother. So what I did, I changed his name. As of now, Borxon's name has been officially changed to Azimuth, a much more badass moniker fitting of his status. I've already gone back and edited Part 1 to account for this.

So, on with the chapter!

**000**

Sirens blared through the streets as Nao City's emergency services tore between the buildings. A solid wall of ambulances and fire engines advancing through the city. The lights on the roofs of the vehicles flashed.

And behind them, the Haven Special Forces.

Since the Crimson Archfiend almost six years before, the Haven Government had installed specialised units in every city; basically an army. Although initially just a taskforce, virtually unlimited funding had expanded the Special Forces until it had almost replaced the police. In fact, the two were almost synonymous - most officers eventually absorbed into the Forces. There, they took on a new title; A Haven Guardian Rankman.

They'd never had to use their full might. Still, development projects had been undertaken to create situational weapons; if a threat like the Archfiend ever arose again, they'd be ready. And now it seemed the time had arrived. The call had come in.

Directly behind the line of ambulances came the immediate response units, swarming from all over the city towards the column of smoke rising from the city centre. Reports had come in waves from panicked civilians, claiming to have seen three bizarre people shooting lasers from their hands and punching people through walls. Instantly, the order had been put through; supernatural or not, the city was under attack, and the Force leapt in action.

The line of emergency services broke as they neared the danger zone, fanning out through the streets. The response teams were right behind them, swarming. They came in armed vehicles, each mounted with all sorts of wonderful weaponry. Leading the cavalry was Haven Force Commander, Cid Craine. He was in his early thirties, with an attractive curtain of brown hair and a straight nose. Craine's vehicle roared down the centre of the main street and skidded to a halt outside the Bracken Street Park gate.

"Take up positions and wait for my command," he barked, holding his finger to the wired radio at his throat. The device picked up vibrations in his throat and broadcast them to every soldier under his command. "Keep your eyes peeled; the second you spot anything notify me immediately."

Craine stood from his seat, gazing out of the open canopy of his vehicle; his was custom-made to his own specifications. He'd nicknamed it after the critically endangered Sand Condors. Next to him, Force Captain Barrian Lanstar sat behind the wheel.

"Commander!" Lanstar yelled, and Craine instantly followed his gaze to the skyline on the other side of the gardens, and his eyes widened.

"What the-?"

**000**

"Korros?"

The name clung to the witch's tongue, and her dark mauve lips twisted into a smile. Ursula blinked slowly with her strange wide eyes, and took in the newcomer.

He was tall, equal in height to Ursula herself, and his green face was lined with anger. The Namekian's pink-lined arms were folded in front of his chest, over the top of the dark blue gi he wore on his body. A white cape rose under the air behind him, its heavy fabric catching at the wind and fluttering lightly. To complete the image, there was a large white turban adorning his head, matching the cape. Two pointed green ears lined his face, and a pair of antennae poked from underneath the headdress.

Korros didn't move, his mouth set in a grim line. Ursula hissed.

"Korros, the guardian of Haven…" she whispered seductively. "Come to defend."

"That's right," growled Korros, and jerked his head back. Ursula took the cue and looked at the shattered body of Kenta Hale. Even unconscious the boy was shaking, sobs wracking his body. Ursula's smile widened sickeningly.

"Haven was left in my care," said the Namekian, "and you will not touch another one of its inhabitants. I'm going to break you."

"Break _me?" _laughed the torturess. She spread her arms wide, delicate-looking fingers touching gently at the air. But those were fingers that had dealt so much damage. "I can't be broken, you poor slug. My body is too powerful for a mere Namekian. Do you not know who I am?"

Korros snarled and Ursula caught a glimpse of white fangs. "I remember another who made such a claim, and he was wrong. Everybody can be broken. Even me…and even you. Even the one who you call your master."

Ursula's anger rose like a snake, and in an instant she was ready to pounce. The alien assassin's talons bored into the ground like it was butter. "How _dare _you?" she hissed menacingly. "Lord Horus is invincible! You will be struck down for your filthy words."

Korros stood still as she threatened him, and then turned his back to her. Ursula looked on in outrage as the Namekian crouched down beside Kenta and placed his powerful hand on the Havien's forehead. It was covered in sweat and blood, the boy's face wounded and dirty. His mouth hung open and tears swathed down his cheeks, dripping into the gaping hole. Kenta's eyes were shut.

Suddenly, Korros snapped his head and around and his eyes were on Ursula, their black irises burning with dark fire. "What is wrong with you!" he yelled, voice rough and furious. "Do you have no respect for life or others? What gives you the right? Tell me!"

Ursula sprung.

"_This _is my right!" she screeched, prehensile tongue unravelling and whipping in front of her face. The demoness' hand twisted into a claw, nails like razors, and she stabbed out at the crouching Korros. He reacted with the dexterity of only a master, throwing his own body over Kenta and spinning. The Namekian's leg torpedoed around, a solid trunk of muscle and bone, and Ursula howled as Korros' foot struck her across the face before she could even begin to attack. The momentum of the kick carried her body several metres, sending it colliding with the road and driving into the black asphalt. A twenty-foot long trench was carved where she had been, ending where Ursula rolled to a stop.

Korros stared after her, still poised upside-down over Kenta. He completed his revolution and rummaged around in the folds of the purple cloth wrapped rightly around his waist, serving as a belt and also holding his gi together. From within, the Eternal Warrior pulled a shrivelled green pellet, which he dropped into Kenta's open mouth. Quickly, Korros massaged the Havien's blood-soaked neck until he swallowed, and then the Gaman Pea worked its magic.

Kenta's broken arm repaired itself with several painful sounding cracks and the bruises already covering his skin turned faint and then disappeared. Finally, his nose straightened, his jawbone – dislocated from his constant, agonised screaming – reconnected, and the wide gash on his forehead sealed itself up, the tissue weaving together like world championship sewing on fast forward. Kenta bolted into a sitting position, eyes wide.

"Arnika!" he cried, confusion in his eyes. Slowly it died away as Kenta remembered where he was. The boy's head dropped, examining his body, and his fingers brushed his face, probing it thoroughly. He looked up at his saviour and his eyes widened. "Korros?"

Korros didn't even have time to nod. A ki-fuelled wind swept around, and Ursula thundered towards them. Korros rose to face her, crossing his arms in front of his face to protect him. Kenta flinched as Ursula's punch landed directly in the middle of the cross and Korros flew back over him, backflipping in midair. He crashed to the ground and used his hands to backflip to his feet, landing in a crouch.

Kenta froze as Ursula loomed over him, knowing that he was defenceless. Ursula had already proved herself to be far above his level, and he had little chance against her alone. She saw her chance and her hand split the air above him, coming to stab him through the chest through sheer force alone-

-when Korros slid alongside and propped himself up on his hands and thrust his foot in the air. The longer reach of his leg gave him the advantage, and he slammed his heel into Ursula's chin. The alien left the ground under the impact and Korros pushed with his hands, sending his own body into the air to follow her. The Namekian grabbed her slender ankle and swung her around as if he was building momentum for a sling, and just when it reached the point that Ursula was just a blur in the air, Korros let go and Ursula flew like a ragdoll.

With the crash of shattering glass and the keel of groaning metal, Ursula hit the building nearest them, four storeys from the ground. The wall bent under her and then gave way, and she tore through steel. Concrete floors and plaster walls, it all crushed before her trajectory, before she finally broke out the other side, spinning through the air before coming to a halt, seething. Ursula's single metre-long tail of hair whipped as she turned in midair to look at the destruction left from the attack. Dust and debris fell.

"Kenta!" barked Korros, not taking his eyes off the gaping hole in the office block. A white aura leaked from his body, rippling. "Get up and leave this eldritch creature to me." Korros' highly tuned ears heard Kenta scramble to his feet and he allowed the smallest of smiles to reach his normally stony face. "Good work."

Kenta shook his head, and stumbled backwards, falling back against a street pole that had somehow remained standing. His eyes were wide. "I-I…"

The Namekian half-turned. "The time for fear is past. One of the two you fought is still out there. You have to destroy him, do you understand me?"

Kenta's jaw shook. "K-Korros…"

"_Do as I say!" _shouted Korros, as the rubble blocking the hole through the opposite building was blown away and Ursula blasted through, purple aura sparking. Korros spread his arms wide and bellowed, and the area before him turned white with his ki, a wide wave that enveloped Ursula and stopped her in her tracks. The torturess tried to throw her arms out to protect herself, but the ki pushed her back and she blasted a second void through the building.

"_So strong…" _thought Kenta. "_I've never seen anything like it."_

"Find the other and kill him, and do it now!" commanded Korros, and Kenta snapped back to reality. He nodded hurriedly, ignoring the tempest swirling in his stomach.

"Y-Yes!"

A circle of white light shone beneath Korros' feet and he levitated, the air swirling around his body as he rose into the air. Across the street, Ursula tumbled from the second fissure in the building and hissed at him. "And while you're at it, find a way to stop that army," Korros added, and then leapt into battle. Kenta watched in awe as Korros vanished and reappeared right next to the enemy, only for Ursula to anticipate him, swinging her arm and catching him across the face with the back of his hand. The Havien shook his head, absorbing Korros' words.

"_Army? What army?" _he thought, and as if in answer to his question, there was an enormous rumble and the ground shook slightly beneath his feet. Kenta turned his head and gazed down the street, and his stomach dropped.

"_Oh…that army…"_

Kenta swallowed. Three hundred metres away, the street ended at a T-intersection, and directly behind that were the botanical gardens in the centre of Nao City, Bracken Street Park. And setting up a police barricade in front of the park was a line of military vehicles, painted with the symbol of the Haven Special Forces. Each one was mounted with a full-power missile assault cannon, all lined up ready to shoot at the enemy. Kenta began sprinting.

Before he had gone fifty metres the cannons opened fire, at least twenty missiles soaring high over Kenta's head. He knew instinctively that they were aimed for Korros and Ursula. Still at full speed, Kenta looked back over his shoulder and immediately wished that he hadn't; the carnage had already begun between the two aliens.

Completely ignoring the incoming missiles, they were throwing everything they had at each other, and as Kenta watched Korros drove Ursula into a building for the third time, only for her to snap back and punch him in the face, blasting him across the street where he slammed into the opposite tower, the steel crumpling like paper beneath his body. Concrete turned to dust and chalk filled the air, but Korros was already back into the fight, spinning Ursula into the air and sinking both fists into her stomach.

Then the missiles hit and Kenta had to cover his eyes as the sky lit up.

**BOOM!**

An explosion of flame rolled from the centre of detonation, and a second later the shockwave pounded out like a wall of solid air, shattering every single window in a hundred metre radius. Kenta felt it slam into him and threw up his arms to protect his face as tiny particles of dust pierced the air. When he looked again, a cloud of smoke hung heavy in the air above the street, completely obscuring Korros and Ursula from view. Quite suddenly, it was simply blown away as a second shockwave rippled through the air and the smoke dispersed in an instant, revealing Korros and Ursula still fighting, neither one fazed by the missiles at all. They moved faster than even Kenta's eyes could see, arms mere blurs in the air as they struck one another again and again.

For another few seconds Kenta simply watched, entranced, before he mentally slapped himself and continued running. Not to be deterred by their initial failure, the line of soldiers had immediately uncovered their next set of weaponry; three ridiculously huge chainguns. A Rankman stood behind each one, and suddenly the barrels – each two metres long – came to life and began to spin, and like weapons from hell, the muzzles flashed. The sound was enormous, an incredible chattering that pierced Kenta's ears. This time, he didn't look back. He had to stop them before they did something really stupid.

The storm of bullets lasted only ten seconds before the chainguns slowed, fresh out of ammo after that one quick burst. Kenta leapt over a car and somersaulted, not daring to take to the air for risk of being targeted himself, and then he'd never convince them to stop. Not even short of breath, Kenta made a beeline for the nearest soldier, who saw him coming and raised a machine rifle directly in Kenta's face.

"Don't take another step!" shouted the soldier, and Kenta slowed, raising his hands. "Get inside the nearest building immediately and don't come out until the city-wide all-clear has been given."

"Take me to whoever's in charge!" replied Kenta. The gun didn't scare him at all; he only had his hands in the air for the Rankman's sake. "I need to talk to your commander, and quickly."

"Don't you get it, kid, this is a warzone!" said the Rankman, and jerked his gun. "Get the hell out of here unless you wanna be killed."

"You don't understa-"

"Move it!"

Kenta's mouth gaped, and he didn't take a step. Angrily, the Rankman gestured with his gun and another soldier grabbed roughly at his arm, attempting to shove him behind the lines away from the danger. Kenta scowled and shook him off, almost breaking the man's fingers.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" yelled the Rankman.

"My name is Kenta Hale," said Kenta loudly, and instantly the eyes of every soldier were on him. "I wrote 'The Rise and Fall of the Crimson Archfiend'."

This had the desired effect. There was barely a person alive who hadn't at least heard of the infamous book, and there a great debate all over Haven over whether or not the events detailed in the novel were true, spurred on by the fact that Kenta himself had refused to say anything on the subject.

For a moment there was complete silence amongst the people gathered, and a few of them exchanged glances. The Rankman that had his gun centred on Kenta hesitated, and then lowered his weapon, gesturing.

"Come with me."

**000**

_CRACK!_

_BPHM!_

_SHRK!_

With identical movements, Korros and Ursula snapped apart from each other, disengaging and moving away until there was a distance of at least twenty metres. The area around them was a complete disaster zone; most windows within a wide radius had been shattered, several chunks had been taken out of buildings, and there was an enormous fissure spearing through the road below them. It had cracked another water main. Korros flipped backwards and landed on the black asphalt, and Ursula descended opposite him.

Korros blinked as his aura pulsed around him. The Namekian stretched, cracking his neck and knuckles, and squared his shoulders. In all of his life, he'd never had a fight with someone as powerful as this. Denkuma had been a literal nightmare, the Devil himself in a material form, but even he was overshadowed by this deadly assassin. She was something else.

Ursula's wide eyes probed his body, and then that poison mouth opened and her veined tongue unravelled. It lashed before her, and Ursula's eyes flashed. She was smiling behind the tongue.

"I can see why you're the Guardian," she said in a soft but deadly voice. "Never have I met such a match. But I'm stronger. I've toppled pillars like you before. You'll feel it before long. The crying fear, as I pull your very essence from your soul."

Korros snarled, showing off his fanged teeth, and then faded through the air before halting right before Ursula, bent slightly at the knees. Fingers curled into a fist and he slammed them under Ursula's chin, launching her into the air. Korros bent again and then followed, punching her in the chest a few times.

"You can't topple me like you have others," he shouted, as Ursula quickly recovered and blocked his next strike with her slender forearm. It didn't even budge. Together, they rose higher into the air, circling, and their fists rained together, sparks flying with every blow. As they fought, their auras mixed together, white flames and purple haze licking at each other. The flickering energies crackled insanely, bolts of miniature lightning shooting off and hitting random buildings. "There was a time…" growled Korros. "There was a time when I feared those who were stronger than me! I quivered and hid away, and it destroyed me. But then I returned to the light!"

"The light is nothing!" hissed Ursula, spongy tongue unravelling. Korros battered it aside and they rose higher.

"The light is _everything!" _roared the Guardian, as they cleared the canopy of the city and broke apart, both zooming backwards to gain space. The sky above them rumbled, clouds forming, as the two superpowers hovered hundreds of metres above the ground, above the buildings themselves. "And I will not betray the trust the people of this planet have unknowingly placed in me. I am the protector of Haven, and I will not lose to you. Horus has no business here!"

Korros' eyes flashed, and he raised an arm, accusing finger pointing directly at Ursula, who hissed. "And neither do you, witch! I say again…_I'm going to break you!" _

White energy exploded from his body and he arced through the sky above the skyscrapers to meet Ursula in battle. In answer, the torturess opened her mouth and suddenly her tongue was extending, the spongy flesh stretching like elastic. The powerful muscle slammed into Korros' face and slapped him right out of the air before lithely looping around his neck and tightening. Korros choked and pulled at the tongue slowly strangling him, but it was like iron and pulling at it only made it stretch further.

"Fool," Ursula said softly, and then began to retract her tongue, pulling Korros in. The Namekian's eyes bulged. A bead of sweat ran down his face, and was soon joined by a few more as his lungs tightened. Finally, the tongue pulled him within arm's reach and withdrew, slipping away from his skin; it left a trail of saliva and an angry red welt around his throat. Ursula gripped his windpipe in her slender fingers and began to squeeze. "It doesn't matter how much you believe in yourself. You people always think that it'll save you."

She leaned in, and whispered in his ear. "But here's a secret…" Her voice was soft and tempting. "That doesn't mean _anything._"

Ursula's moist mauve lips curved into a sadistic smile and she poked out her tongue. It was throbbing. Suddenly, like a snake, it whipped forward and struck Korros between the eyes. He shouted at the sudden blinding pain and then was flying through the air as Ursula let go. Korros gathered his ki and rolled in the air, looping around just in time to see Ursula flying towards him, fist back. A powerful punch hit him in the chest and Korros crashed into the side of a building, yelling, as Ursula shimmered.

"_She's faster than before!" _thought the Namekian, as Ursula came into his field of vision, her clawed foot stabbing out at him. Korros caught it and pulled her around, but Ursula twisted out of his grip and kicked him hard in the stomach, driving the wind out of him and sending the Namekian dropping through the air. Korros felt the wind rush past his face as the ground came rushing up to meet him, looming closer by the second. Gritting his teeth, he focussed his energy and expelled it from his body, slowing his descent. But then he collided with the ground and what little breath remained in his body was driven out.

He rolled and skidded along the asphalt, gouging chunks into tiny speckles of black powder. Finally, he bounced to a painful stop, and laid still. A small groan escaped from his mouth and his teeth were bared as he rose to all fours. His arms shook.

Korros heard a pulsing behind him and half-turned to see Ursula slowly touch down on the road just metres away. She was smiling that eerie smile.

"Shut up," growled Korros, and rose swiftly to his feet, rolling his shoulders and testing his joints. "Don't think you've beaten me at all. I haven't even started yet."

"Would it interest you to know that I haven't either?"

Korros was silent; he'd suspected as much. Anyone who could defeat Kenta as easily as she had wouldn't be a pushover at all. The boy was Havien, but he was a prodigy, thought Korros. Which meant that Ursula was even stronger. And much more dangerous. Time to pull out the stops.

"You're fast," said Korros, cracking his neck to the side. His arms rose to his head, and green fingers closed around his turban. "And strong."

Ursula tilted her head as Korros lifted the turban from his head, which collapsed into a pile of cloth, unable to retain its shape without a head to wrap around. Under it was a smooth bald head, and two antennae gently felt the air. Korros beheld the turban, lifted it out in front of him.

"But so am I."

He dropped it.

Ursula's eyes blinked and her mouth opened as the cloth slammed into the ground and _sunk_ into the road, the ground just parting for it until there was an actual crater in the centre of the street, at least two foot deep. A cloud of dust rose.

"What?!" hissed Ursula, as Korros hands next moved to his neck, where his cape and shoulder pads were attached. Korros shook his head as he lifted the folds of cloth over his face, and then they were falling too, making an identical impact on the ground. Ursula stared in surprise, mouth open and shock in her eyes, and then Korros just disappeared. His green skin seemed to fade and he was gone.

Ursula barely had time to register that fact before the air in front of her face rippled and Korros stepped out of the air less than a metre from her face. He smiled, a confident leer that sent an unfamiliar shiver down Ursula's spine.

"So let's begin."

**000**

The weights are off and the battle's really begun. The fighting seems kinda lacklustre from my point of view; Korros is a really tough character to write with, and combined with Ursula it makes for extra difficulty. Tell me what you thought in a review.

And yeah, this one was the shortest I've had in a while. There was meant to be another bit with Kenta at the end there but I wanted to end on a high note. Also, I've had a lot going on in my personal life at the moment so I've lost a lot of motivation. Also, tests are coming up. But I'll do my best to work hard.

Next time on Dragon Ball X, Korros and Ursula step it up. But Ursula's not Horus' top assassin and torturess for nothing; Korros really has his hands full with this freak-show. Tune in for the next chapter of _Dragon Ball X!_

Now read that in the voice of the Dragon Ball Z Narrator and it sounds ten times more awesome.

Toodles!


	11. Accept No Substitutes

**Dragon Ball X**

**Guardians of Tranquility**

NYA-HA~! YOU ALL THOUGHT I'D DIED, DIDN'T YOU~?!

Hey guys :P So, I know there's been a delay in everything lately, the last update was for the OVA late last _year_. It's freaking October. I've been pretty busy, Year 12 and stuff, I need top marks to get into a Law course at university, and I've started serious planning for, well, you know, actual novels. So, this has taken a bit of a back seat to everything, and to be honest my inspiration has been kind of lacking lately for the OVA. Part 4's going pretty good prose-wise, but it's still only about a third in after almost ten months months. I wanted to finish the OVA before I started work on Volume II again, but I need a change. So here is chapter 11.

Last time, if you can remember back that far, the invasion of Haven has already begun. Korros arrived in the nick of time to save Kenta from Ursula's beating, but now the Guardian is finding a tough opponent on his hands; Ursula's like no opponent he's ever faced before. Meanwhile, Oki is still somewhere in the city, and Korros charged Kenta with finding him and killing him, as well as stopping the Haven Special Forces from interfering with the battle against Ursula.

So, I'm sure you just want to read, eh? Fine with me; on with the chapter!

**000**

A deep appreciation was beginning to be instilled in Kenta as he was led through the contingents of Rankmen. A sort of inner respect at their discipline and level heads as they shouted orders and organised their weaponry. Their self-control was outstandin-

"What the _hell_ is going on?!" said the Rankman escorting him, voice shaking. He stood a few inches over Kenta, dressed impeccably in the grey-blue military jacket of the Special Forces. His head was bare, brown hair cut short. Sweat coated his neck and face; training was all very well, but Kenta doubted anything had prepared the Force for this. The soldier's face twitched. He was one of the calmer soldiers around.

"Do you really want to know?" Kenta replied. They didn't slow their pace, but the Rankman stared over his shoulder at him for a few seconds; his eyes were blinking aimlessly; there was a dull unawareness in the way they stared.

"Nothing we had even slowed them down," he stammered. "This is like the Archfiend all over again."

"Forget that," said Kenta hollowly. Something was wrong, he could feel it. He felt…drained, his energy spent despite the replenishing effects of the Gaman Pea he'd consumed. Briefly, he glanced at his hands; they were shaking violently. He exhaled, shoving his hands into his ruined pants and holding them against his body to ease their quivering. His limbs ached. "He's got nothing on these guys."

The soldier stumbled over his feet and almost fell, but caught himself just in time, halfway to the ground. Cursing, Kenta came up short before he ran into him as the man turned and looked up into his eyes. Kenta realised he must be scowling, because the soldier averted his gaze almost immediately, staring somewhere near Kenta's chest.

"You're exaggerating, right?" The soldier's breathing was beginning to become uneven. Kenta could see it in his stance, but what really showed it were his blank eyes; the instinctive Havien urge to protect one's own life was awakening in the soldier. But that wasn't all. There was utter, utter fear. He didn't know how he could tell, but Kenta knew this man had seen Denkuma during the purge of Haven almost six years ago. He'd stared extinction in the face and had experienced the feeling of complete helplessness before a being beyond his conscious imagination.

That was something no amount of discipline could suppress. Ordinary Haviens could be slaughtered by the millions in an instant before the supernatural forces present, and the man knew it. There's a point where you can tell victory is simply unachievable with your current means.

There was another phrase for that sort of thinking, thought Kenta: losing hope. He'd seen it before, he suddenly realised; that look in the soldier's eyes. In a cavern beneath the surface, the despair of defeat had slowly swallowed a fearless warrior and pulled him into a pit of anger. This soldier's blank eyes were like staring into a mirror to the past, a reflection of Korros' loss of faith.

The same Korros who had clawed from the trap of darkness, devouring his hatred and facing his nightmare at the cost of his own life.

Kenta closed his fingers around the soldier's arm and pulled him back to his feet. The man blinked, and a small flicker of light went through his pupil. Kenta gripped the man's forearm tighter, and a small flow of his energy ran down his arm and into the man. "It's no exaggeration," he said quietly. "But don't think for a second that we'll lose. Not with our man out there backing us up."

A blotch of colour began to seep back into the man's face as Kenta's energy rushed through his body, and his chin dipped a few times. "My name's Jesse," he murmured. "I'm sorry, sir."

Despite everything happening Kenta felt a ridiculous thrill at the title, and he brushed it off as nerves playing at him. What foolish priorities, he told himself.

"Kenta," he answered awkwardly, and dropped his hand from Jesse's arm. "Don't apologise. We need to get to whoever's in charge."

Jesse seemed confused for a second or two before his mind began to shift into gear, his training taking charge of his composure. "Yeah…follow me."

The soldier turned and resumed picking his path through the carnage of panicking soldiers, weaving his escort towards an ensemble of large vehicles a few hundred yards away. Kenta began to follow.

Just then, an intense lance of pain sliced through his torso, so sudden and so consuming that for a moment Kenta thought he'd blacked out. His vision blurred and he fell, legs losing their connection with his brain and folding like broken matchsticks. A hot gasp rose in his throat. It burned as it came out, a searing fire, before it swelled and became a desperate shout of pain.

It was unlike anything he'd felt before; a hunger, his body devouring itself and it loved the taste. Kenta found himself on all fours, mind clamouring to piece itself together, and as he stared around he couldn't place himself on the physical spectrum. There was nothing but this torment, this total pain that was now wracking his entire body, pressing and ripping at his flesh. He screamed.

And then it was gone as quick as it'd come. Kenta's voice broke and he dissolved into a panicked breathing, his body coated in a layer of sweat. His bones ached to the very centre, and he could still feel a terrible echo of starving flames on his skin. The memory of it remained in his mind.

"Hey!" shouted a voice on the edge of his hearing, and Kenta rolled his gaze in a cloud of disenchantment, staring from beyond a veil. Jesse was at his side, tapping his palm against Kenta's sweat-soaked cheek and shouting distant words.

"I…" Kenta breathed. His vocal chords felt stretched and foreign, his voice hollow.

"Are you okay?" Jesse's face hovered above him, the soldier's worried features filling his view. Kenta blinked slowly, and his vision began to clear, the blurriness at the edges of his sight growing sharped. He still felt numb all over.

"Y-yeah…" he murmured, and allowed Jesse to lift him into a sitting position.

"What just happened?"

Kenta flexed his fingers, staring at them. "I don't know." Suddenly he felt very tired, his every instinct willing him to sink backwards into the peace of blessed unconsciousness. Despite the Gaman Pea, he was still feeling the effects of Ursula's beating; her cruel laughter still resonated in his mind. And now this.

Had Ursula's actions caused this spasm? It shouldn't have been possible; Gaman Peas were fabled to restore the body to perfect condition, and until now – from what he knew - every single one had lived up to that reputation. A faulty pea, maybe? It wasn't implausible, but Kenta was certain that this was something else. It hadn't been the pain of injury…it was something much more.

"Help me up," he grunted, and Jesse lifted him to his feet. Kenta swayed as the last remnants of his spasm stretched through his limbs, but he managed to stay upright. A breath of wished finality eased from his lungs; this was turning out to be a very bad day.

**000**

The cluster of vehicles Kenta had noticed was their destination, Jesse informed him. After giving himself a reluctant minute to shake off the shadow of the attack, Kenta had forced his body into action. Adrenaline was beginning to return in response to his spasm. It would have to suffice until the crisis was over.

As they drew closer, Kenta quickly found himself picking out the guy in charge. A desert-coloured military truck stood out next to the standard issue troopers around it, with a steel canopy and what looked like one of the enormous chainguns employed against Ursula mounted on top. Painted on the side in dark brown lettering was the word "_Condor"._ Kenta baulked at the sight of it. It was quite the badass vehicle.

But even more noticeable was the guy inside.

He stood in the large roofless cab, one leg inside with the other up on top of the windshield, putting him several metres above everyone else. The man had a mop of brown hair that hung in a loose fringe, and an angular face that both brought out his youthful looks and gave the air of a guy you seriously didn't want to mess with. He wore a commando vest, bulletproof and covered in portable weaponry, and there wasn't much doubt that he knew damn well how to use it.

On a whim, Kenta reached out with his essence, expanding his energy. He could feel the erratic life-forces of hundreds of soldiers around him, but when he touched the commander, he felt his heart throb inside his own chest. It was as if he had reached into a vast well of substance and vitality.

This man was _alive._

Beside the commander was another soldier – this one actually inside the cab – at the wheel, who had also rigged up a fearsome display of radios, hardware, and a laptop around him. He was relaying a steady stream of information to the commander, who listened with one ear and barked orders to the vehicles around him at the same time.

"Commander Craine!" shouted Jesse, and hastened his step as they drew closer; Kenta's body followed, numbness rising in his limbs. Exhaustion was close to setting in, he knew.

Craine – the commander, Kenta guessed – turned at Jesse's voice, and almost instantly Kenta saw his eyes flicker to him. An unknown face.

With an almost feminine grace, Craine dropped from the vehicle, landing with barely a falter. He stood maybe an inch under six foot, and now that they were closer Kenta could see the assurance with which Craine held himself. It was difficult to tell under his clothes, but Kenta could see from the shape of the commander's limbs that his body would be covered in hard, lean muscle; the kind that lent endurance as well as sheer strength.

Despite being able to shred buildings with something close to ease, Kenta was impressed.

"Who's this?" Craine demanded. His eyes narrowed, quickly and threateningly appraising this newcomer.

"Kenta Hale, sir," said Jesse formally, standing to attention and staring at somewhere over Craine's shoulder. "He requested to speak to you regarding the…situation."

It was subtle, but as soon as Jesse mentioned Kenta's name Craine blinked heavily in surprise. Kenta smirked an inward smirk. He was being name-dropped a lot today, and it seemed to be garnering much of the same reaction from everybody.

He supposed that when the city was being attacked by aliens, it'd be handy to have someone with supposed alien experience on hand. Go figure.

And then the air turned yellow and the air bended as a sizzling orb of shining light arced through the air and ripped into the side of a nearby army truck. The truck's tires screamed as it skidded sideways for twenty metres, but not as loud as the metal of the truck as it superheated and warped, buckling in from the massive pressure and almost breaking the entire truck in half. An instant later the orb detonated, vaporising the truck and sending a vast wave of fiery smoke in all directions.

The air filled with shouts and cries of panic, and wild chattering as some soldiers fired their guns wildly into the air, blindly aiming for a target they couldn't see or place.

By the _Condor_, Kenta's heart skipped a beat, and he recoiled. His senses assaulted him; the repugnant smell of burning tires and steel, the deep roar of flames and the horrific image of the smoke and the fire.

But more intense than any, the sixth sense that only he of all present possessed.

"Get _down!" _Kenta roared, pushing his ki into his vocal chords to make his voice echo over the cacophony all around him. "Everybody get _away_ from he-"

Kenta cut himself off a sudden, splitting agony ran through his body again. It wasn't as intense as earlier, but it still drove him to his knees, and he clutched at his chest. It choked him, his throat tightening and not letting a breath in, and his heart burned with an inexpressible, terrible vehemence.

In a fit, barely able to see through the unstoppable tears melting across his eyeballs, Kenta raised his head and stared past the _Condor_, to where, a hundred metres down the road, the hulking pale beast that was Oki wrapped his enormous limbs around a deserted family car that had been abandoned on the side of the road. With a great roar, he pulled backwards, gaining leverage, and then lifted the car and swung it through the air.

Helplessness saturated Kenta as he knelt paralysed on his knees, unable to move, unable to act. Oki tossed the car like it was nothing heavier than a vehicle-shaped beanbag, and the makeshift projectile seemed almost weightless flying over the asphalt, ready to slam directly into him.

_SSSHHFFF-__**BOOM!**_

A tail of grey smoke carved through the air and collided with the airborne vehicle while it was still in midair, and suddenly a ball of flame blossomed from its head and enveloped the car, atomising it in an instant. Shrapnel exploded everywhere, pinging against surrounding army vehicles and embedding itself into the asphalt road.

"_HEY!" _yelled a furious voice, and as the throes of agony began to fade Kenta was able to blink away the tears and look up. Commander Craine stood in the cab of the _Condor_, once again standing with one leg on the windshield. Clutched in his hands was a smoking RPG launcher.

"Get the hell off my planet!"

**000**

Korros stepped out of the air, his body a mirage before Ursula's eyes. Just a blur of green and purple shimmering towards her, and then suddenly he was less than a metre away, grim angular face carved into an expression of no description, blank and completely calm. In the same movement, not even pausing to breathe, Korros shifted his weight to one leg and the other snapped out, his heel slamming into Ursula's stomach.

A pulse of displaced air detonated from the point of impact and Ursula's cry of pain was cut short, time slowing as her vision faded black for an instant before her peripheral view turned into a blur. Korros' aura twisted and flared, surging down the Namekian's leg in an instant and converting into kinetic energy. Ursula exploded backwards, friction burning at her skin and a sharp stabbing pain spreading across her torso, emanating from where Korros' dynamitic kick had impacted. A shockwave accompanied her, blowing debris away and stripping paint from the walls of buildings as she passed. The street ended and Ursula smashed through an entire office building, glass and steel crumbling under her body. She rolled to a stop on a carpeted floor and drew in a raspy breath. The alien's single lung seared. She hissed.

"Weighted clothes…" Ursula's tongue flickered out, still stained with Kenta's blood. One eye twitched. "He's faster and stronger now."

Flurried gasps and a thud were barely audible over the howling wind ripping through the gaping hole in the wall. Panicked Haviens, residents of the office, scrambled to get away. Ursula didn't even look at them, staring out the hole at the city. She spat.

"Guardian or not, I'll peel his skin like a _grapefruit_," said Ursula. She rolled her shoulders. They made an unpleasant rippling noise. "I want blood."

Then she raised both hands above her head and the voice of the temptress rose, purple energy sizzling around her. Sudden screams of the spectating citizens were silenced quickly as their bodies were charred to a crisp, and then the walls were evaporating and Ursula ripped the skyscraper apart in an explosion of energy.

The resounding blast roared across the city, a cacophony of shrieking metal and burning air.

Debris and atomised dust hurricaned through the sky around the centre-point, and then was blown away as Ursula expanded her ki in a sphere around her. The pulse of energy caught the airborne rubble and pushed it away like a growing bubble of destruction. In the middle of the wreckage, Ursula was suspended in midair. Her arms were extended and her palms flat, pushing the air. Energy lanced in all directions ahead of the field, stabbing through skyscrapers and simply _melting _walls.

She dropped her arms, shifting her stance, and scanned her bug-eyes over the city. Below her, there was nothing left of the building but a twisted stump protruding from the ground. Korros was perched on the pavement almost a kilometre away, crouched in a defensive position with his arms protecting his face from the rubble. As she watched, he stood and cracked his neck, staring back. Neither moved.

"_What's he waiting for?" _thought Ursula. "_Is he trying to unnerve me, or is it a waiting game to see who strikes first? He's a lot faster and able to hit harder without those clothes dragging him down…but by how much?"_

And then Korros' feet skidded across the pavement of the road and he squatted, before energy exploded around him and he fired from the ground like a rocket. The Namekian covered the distance in seconds, body as straight as an arrow, and they were together.

_SHWZ-SH-SH-SH-SHWZ-SH-SHWZ-PHM-SHWZ-SH-SH-SH-SH-!_

Korros' fangs gleamed in the sunlight, his face drawn into a snarl, and green limbs blurred and faded, snapping out and retracting. Ursula defended, caught off-guard, dodging, ducking, blocking, parrying, weaving around the stream of punches. They came hard and fast, endless and constant.

The combatants broke apart. A spark of energy burned and Korros unleashed a barrage of white energy balls from a glowing palm. Ursula deflected them with an open hand, and they arced away, detonating loudly against buildings. Ursula rushed forwards, catching Korros on the hip with a well-placed kick, but he rolled away and recovered quickly, responding with a powerful elbow in Ursula's side. As she recoiled, Korros reached out and closed his powerful fingers around Ursula's long braid of hair.

"HYYYAARRGGHH!" he roared, and began to spin, picking up speed. Ursula's cry of pain ebbed and was lost as the rushing wind around her shielded Korros from her voice, and when they were spinning as fast as Korros could handle, he let go.

Ursula zoomed away, unable to control her body as it was propelled by the centrifugal force of the spin. Immediately, Korros charged up and flew after her, catching up in seconds and soaring to the space just above her.

Then he spun to gain momentum and drove the back of his leg into her stomach.

_PHBM!_

Ursula folded under the blow like a pillow and was driven directly downwards, smashing into the road and throwing up a shower of pulverised asphalt. Korros fell gracefully through the air and touched down lightly thirty yards away, guard up and ready.

A strange silence settled over the battlefield as the Namekian waited for his opponent to rise. The silence was broken as Ursula pirouetted from the smashed road and flipped through the air, dark energy swirling around her. She landed, gathered her ki, and thrust her arms out, a scream ripping from her throat.

The light was sucked from the world as a thick purple beam erupted from Ursula's spread palms. Bolts of electricity fired out of it wildly, hitting abandoned cars and turning them into hungry balls of fire. The road beneath the beam was ripped up, and a second later it was on Korros. He didn't hesitate, throwing his arm back and pouring his energy into his fingers. White light gathered into a shrieking orb and he hurled it at the incoming energy beam. It expanded as it left his hand, turning into his own wave of destructive force, and the two collided halfway.

Dark and light reacted, atoms smashing into one another and being blown apart, and there was a great roar as a blinding flash of light exploded from the epicentre of the beams. Korros leapt backwards, taking into the air and retreating quickly, and felt Ursula do the same.

"_This is too destructive," _he thought. "_The entire city's going to die if we keep this up the way it's going!"_

He flew backward through the air, riding the wind and slowing his movement before skidding backwards along the road. He came to a stop and immediately straightened.

Ursula was out of sight, but he didn't need to lay eyes on her to know her location. He reached out with his energy, feeling the flow of life in the fabric of the air and latching onto her position.

Korros drew in his power around him. What he was about to do had taken him several years to perfect. Learning a technique just from watching was tremendously more difficult than being taught.

But when it came to Denkuma's techniques, those memories were burned forever in Korros' memory.

Two fingers found his forehead, and suddenly the physical distance between he and Ursula was irrelevant. Darkness flickered in front of his eyes and then he stepped out of the void, into new space.

"_Instant Transmission!"_

**000**

Pungent fumes choked Kenta, and he heaved at his stomach and chest. Blinking through the smoke and pain, he put his weight on one knee and pushed himself to his feet.

"What are you doing?" he shouted. His voice was cracked and he thought he could feel blood running up his throat. Panic was beginning to take its hold in his mind. "You can't fight him."

Kenta's vision blurred. He swayed, legs losing their strength, and his heart leapt in his throat as he began to fall. He grunted as a shoulder collided with his chest. A rough arm pushed under his torso and he was lifted back up, his weight supported by the shaking soldier at his side. Kenta's mind flitted, struggling to place itself in the current time and place, and then a name slotted into his head.

"…Jesse?"

"I've got you. We gotta move. Let the commander take care of things here."

Jesse's face was pale under the new coating of grime and ash on his skin. He'd been standing closer to the truck Oki had targeted, but had obviously managed to keep himself together. Blood oozed from a wound on top of his head; his hair was matted and gritty.

"Where's Oki?" Kenta whipped his head around through blind eyes, but the smoke was too thick. He could only sense. An awful pressure built behind his forehead as he cast his energy in all directions, but he kept up the field. It touched Craine, still atop the _Condor_, and then it touched Oki, a foul presence that still stood several hundred metres down the road. Kenta knew he was sizing up Craine. But the brute wouldn't stand there watching for long.

"That thing. It's too strong for anyone else to even be around," said Kenta as Jesse began to half-drag him away. He focussed and dug in his heels, and Jesse stopped. "Only I can fight him."

"Look at you," said Jesse. He shook his head. "No way, I'm getting you out of here. Don't underestimate Craine."

"No!" Kenta pushed the soldier away and swayed, but he was standing by himself. He took a deep, wracking breath, and looked Jesse in the eye. "If anybody stays here, they will die."

Jesse's face was tight. His jaw clenched for several seconds, and he opened his mouth to speak.

The air turned yellow again.

He felt it before he saw it. A huge concentration of energy from Oki's direction, and then Kenta felt something stir within him, a righteous anger that supercharged through his limbs and sent the pain shrivelling back.

Kenta roared and then he lifted from the ground, his body moving without him consciously telling it to. He cleared the _Condor _in a single bound and spread his fingers out before him. An invisible wall of his will rose and Oki's beam slammed into it. The force numbed Kenta's entire arm.

If someone were to ask him how he'd reacted like that, Kenta wouldn't have been able to tell them. Instinct had moved his body for him, and instinct had been what had saved the _Condor._ As Oki's energy dispersed, Kenta dropped his arm and his shield dissolved. The pain rushed back instantly as the immediate threat was countered, and the sudden energy that had risen in his body returned to dormancy. His mind began to cloud again.

But even at full awareness, he never would have been able to see coming what happened next.

Ignoring every single meaning of the word 'danger' known to man, Craine leapt from where he was perched atop the _Condor _and soared the drop to the ground. But he wasn't idle while doing so.

He was holding a freaking minigun.

It was as long as Craine was tall, an enormously long contraption with six gleaming barrels. In both hands Craine clutched what was equivalent to the main body of the gun, a solid block of molded titanium. Sprouting from the back of the body was a tube as half as thick as Kenta's arm, running back up to the _Condor _and into the covered area behind the cab. Which Kenta could only guess was full of bullets.

"I told you," began Craine, and lifted the minigun to his hip. He flicked a small cap from near his thumb and slammed the button beneath it. Immediately the barrels came to life, shifting and beginning to spin, building up speed in a matter of seconds. Soon they were revolving so fast even Kenta could barely keep up with them. "To get the hell off my planet!"

The gun began to fire.

It was deafening. Kenta's head exploded in sound and he cringed, falling back and crawling away as fast as he could from the death machine that was Craine. He could feel almost literal bolts of vitality shooting from this crazy man, sheer life and maniacal passion infused with every iota of Craine's being.

The bullets burned, hot and deadly, and even Oki wasn't able to react fast enough. They pounded into his body and he was blown off his feet with a wordless bellow, slamming across the bonnet of an abandoned car behind him and rolling over the top of it. His enormous weight buckled the roof, windows crushing under the pressure, and then he was over the other side. Still the bullets came, as bright as fire. They cut the car apart, ripping it to shreds to get at Oki behind it. He wasn't too seriously injured, but it looked like he'd been winded.

The barrels slowed, and the vicious chatter of the minigun died. Kenta's eyes boggled. The mouths of the barrels were glowing orange.

"Lanstar!" Craine ordered, and another man rose from within the cab of the _Condor_. Kenta had forgotten about him; it was Craine's assistant, the one who'd been relaying information to him from the passenger seat. Now he was holding Craine's abandoned RPG launcher, and as Craine's minigun slowed he lined up his own weapon.

"Yes, Commander!"

Lanstar fired. A jet of refuse billowed from behind the launcher and a missile exploded from the end, trailing smoke as it arced down the street and hit Oki in the face.

In the _face._

**BOOM!**

The alien disappeared within a growing cloud of flame and several tongues of ash and debris leapt ahead of the explosion. Oki's shout of pain was audible even from the distance.

"You, up!"

Kenta's head was ringing. A wall of sound and sight and raw adrenaline had closed in on his mind. He became dimly aware of Craine's voice, and managed to focus on the man. He climbed to his feet.

"Get a hold of yourself," said Craine. "What's the matter, can't handle my babe? Toughen up. You saved our asses just before, and if he attacks again we'll need you to do it again, so stay in the game before this guy wipes our collective cracks with that daisy-may light show."

Kenta felt his face go red. He was meant to be the superhero here, and this vanilla Havien was handling Oki better without any enhancements whatsoever.

Craine repositioned his hand so that his thumb was ready to hammer the fire trigger again as Oki regained his feet. He glanced at Kenta. "You said your name was Hale? Cid Craine. Accept no substitutes."

He began to fire.

**000**

Well.

That took a while.

Hope it was an acceptable return to the game. I can't think of too much to say other than that Commander Craine ended up turning around, slapping me in the face and demanding that I don't dictate what he does. He was very explosive about it. Kinda evolved on his own.

With this down I'm gonna be writing regularly again. Expect Part 4 of the OVA up before the year is out. It's gonna be dramatic. I promise.

Toodles~!


End file.
